The Aging of Haruhi Suzumiya
by WritersProse
Summary: After thirteen long years alone, Haruhi and Kyon are reunited. Will friendship, or something far greater, blossom from this chance encounter?
1. Rekindled Love at First Sight

Snowflakes came cascading down upon Tokyo, as was expected within these harsh winter climates. Hundreds of unique glided elegantly to the pavement below, only to be stepped on by passersby. None of the thousands of unique individuals seemed to pay the snowfall any mind. To them, it was just a sign that the weather had become downright unbearable. The chill that ran collectively through the waves of erect bodies would be unsettling to anyone.

No one thought to observe the glistening white wonder around them. Not a single person bothered to think how each flake was entirely unique from the rest. Nor did a single person bother to think that they themselves were entirely unique from the sea of bodies that flooded the streets.

It was not a glamorous city, as many foreigners were let to believe. In fact, the real beauty of Tokyo is not that of beauty, but rather life. The city reeked of the living, just like every great city on the planet. Tokyo is, and shall forever be, many things to many people.

For some, it served only as a tool to climb the business ladder. The gangs see it as their playground, where anything is attainable as long as your switchblade is longer than your victims. To the scholars, it is merely a great source of collective date. The best libraries in Japan could be found in Tokyo, and to the more intellectual types, this is indeed one of the cities more alluring aspects.

Then there was a man named Kyon, who would have liked nothing better than to escape the freezing cold of this December night. Kyon was the president of a broadcast company, which had fortunately filled his wallet with enough yen that he wouldn't have to work another day of his life. Ever since he started working, he failed to understand what all the big hype about being successful was all about.

'Why in the world would anyone want to run a business?' He often caught himself pondering.

Kyon enjoyed simplicity in every aspect of his life. He would most certainly never dream of becoming involved with anymore strange 'beings' and their silly problems. The poor soul had the most troubling of teenage years. Not only was he involved with a feisty young girl with god-like powers, but he was also forced into a position of keeping her life from becoming melancholy.

Life was meant to be lived by one's own terms, and never meant to be manipulated by other powers. He chooses, for the benefit of his mental health, not to believe in such silly things as gods or goddesses. The world doesn't need them, and humanity most certainly doesn't need an overactive holy power manipulating every aspect of existence. Mankind exists because it believes it exists. This also applies for little girls with god-like abilities. Truly, if mankind could wish itself into existence, then surely one girl could wish herself into a position of power without realizing that she could do so. Thus, it was concluded in Kyon's mind, that the 'rebellious' youth he once fell for in high school was merely suffering from a delusion that she managed to spread around to everyone who associated with her. Everyone had bought into the fantasy just the same as she had, and that's how it happened. That's the explanation he had come to in his mind.

It was best to lie to himself rather than face the truth. That he had been shunned by his goddess, and forced to live the rest of his existence in boredom. Things would never go back to the way they were back in high school, and no matter how he tried, he was never able to find another to fill the gap. He felt cursed. He was cursed to be alone in a city that was giving him far more money than he could possibly spend.

Being the head of a TV station is one thing, but having produced dozens of award-winning programs one after another is a completely different beast. It was a beast that refused to see his pockets empty. Just as long as there were television viewers within the Tokyo area, there would always be profits. Profits raining from the hundreds of companies that fought fiercely for each and every advertising spot Tanigawa Productions had available. With the level of sponsor support Tanigawa received within its first year alone was substantial enough for the station to withstand several programs bombing. The bombs have yet to drop. Every program has been a complete success. Even those labeled with failure right from the 'conception' period flew gracefully once put on the air. The science fiction romance 'Lost Love' was immediately considered a failure by everyone in the offices. Doom was predicted for the program even before the pilot episode was released. No one would have guessed that such a bizarre little story would sprout wings and reach the heights that it did. It was a terrible show, and everyone knew it. Lost Love ended up becoming the most successful program Tanigawa Productions had ever produced, and all the thanks came flapping towards the man responsible for green-lighting it. President Kyon believed in Lost Love, and so the money came rolling in. Or at least, that's what all the executives believed. Every project the man touched turned into a tidal wave of yen.

No one would have suspected that one of the most successful icons in modern Japanese television was walking among them. While each individual who walks the streets of Tokyo are completely unique from the others, much like a sky filled with thousands of snowflakes, it was impossible to distinguish the differences between one and the other. It didn't help matters that he chose to disguise his face with a heavy leather jacket.

He knew it was out of style. He knew it was tacky. That's why no one would pay him any mind. He was just another guy with a god awful fashion sense.

His short brown hair bounced with every step, eagerly crying out for the attention of any female onlookers. Though, no matter how hard he tried, they never looked his way. Kyon was a very attractive man, though he didn't look his age. His face seemed to accelerate in development during his mid-twenties, while the rest of his body didn't seem to get the memo. Bags lingered under his eyelids, and he almost always gave away an air of exhaustion. Meaning that many of the young ladies his eyes followed lustfully never wanted anything to do with him. That is, of course, until he flashes his cash in front of them. Then, suddenly, their panties would come flying off. Every time he ever came close to making love with one of these girls, something deep down in his gut would convince him otherwise. On every occasion, he would tell them to leave, and weep with his shame.

'Why do I have to be alone?' His right hand smoothed back his hair, which had just been ruffled by a strong gust of wind. 'What did I do to deserve this?'

He stopped and turned to his right, coming face to face with his final destination. The Sola chain of convenience stores had swept over Japan during the last six years, practically whipping the floor with its competition. This was the last place anyone would expect him to be.

'No one will spot me in this dump.'

There were two Smart cars parked just outside the front entrance, both of which had now become lightly layered in soft snow. This was not one of the nicer Sola stores in the city. The neon sign which was supposed to glorify the store's namesake flickered wildly on and off. In fact, there were many instances where it would just shut down entirely, only to power back up again several minutes later. This was, easily, Kyon's favorite place to shop. It was simple. You just bought your things and you left. No one knew his name here. No one gave a shit.

As he approached the front door, he snuck a glance at the advertisements taped poorly to the windows. The mascot of the Sola Corporation, a cute little 'moe' anime character with pink hair named Mii-chan, was graced on every single ad in the store. The girl was everywhere you looked inside of Sola. A shopper couldn't possibly turn around without seeing her smiling face haunting them from every angle. Mii-chan, however, had managed to become a pop culture sensation, even warranting her own anime and manga series. A laugh escaped Kyon's lips.

He had made a fortune from her televised antics, and "The Adventures of Mii-chan" had just been renewed for a third season.

'It's like I'm a magnet for hugely successful yet seemingly terrible marketing gimmicks.'

"Good evening," the overweight man running the counter called. Kyon just lowered his head and slowly made his way to the magazine aisle, though it was a real battle of wills to get there. He first pretended as if he were browsing through the sake brands, even though he had some at home. He pretended like he was interested in one of the Mii-chan figures that were lined up against the back wall, but the last thing he wanted was a reminder of how god-awful his own programming was. Lastly, he pretended like he was interested in buying some Pocky, even checking the 'best by' dates to make the deception all the more convincing. Surely, now he could make his move and not feel the least bit awkward.

He darted silently to the magazine aisle, coming face to face with what he had been lusting after all along. Stacked all neatly in a pretty little line were six 'men's interest' magazines. Kyon made a mental note that one had been added from last month, spicing up the erotic variety more than usual. Busty and exotic models lined every cover, each making his heart race with lustful anticipation. As usual, there was only one question left to linger in his mind.

'Now, which one of you lovely young ladies will be coming home with me tonight?'

So utterly and completely lost in his sudden surge of fantasy, Kyon paid little attention to the fact that there was a young woman standing right next to him, lost in her own state of fantasy. The woman's face was buried deep within a magazine entitled "The Truth: For Those That Wish to Know". On the cover a flying saucer could be seen blasting off from a Shinto Shrine, with a subtitle written in eerie green letters: "Ghost UFO Spotted! Full story inside!"

He quickly picked up a copy of "Tokyo Beauties", and began scanning through the pages very quickly. He didn't have all night to decide which one he was going to have to choose, so just like every logical man in his situation would do, it would come down to which one had the most appealing girls. Kyon was a simple man with simple tastes, and so he deemed that one magazine at a time was only appropriate. If he bought too many, he would be considered a lecher. But who in all of Tokyo would blame a man for buying one girly magazine every once and again. It was perfectly healthy, just as long as it stayed down to one. More than one, and you are technically a pervert.

Flipping through each magazine with a cool suave demeanor, he finally stumbled upon what that fit his needs perfectly. A pretty young thing in a yellow bikini stretched beautifully across a bed with silk red sheets. Her smile simply melted his heart with its pure childlike innocence, yet there seemed to be something more lurking below the surface. Something primal and oozing with urges waiting to be tamed. This truly was the cream of the crop.

With an issue of "Bikini Wonders" in hand, he began his journey back to the cash register. Without giving it much thought, he began walking backwards, making sure the coast was clear for his getaway. Then an obstacle suddenly came within his senses, as his back came colliding with the young woman who had never even noticed he was there. Paying little mind to anything within the realms of his own reality, he continued pacing backwards, scooting the poor girl along with him.

"Hey buddy, you're not the only one here," she grumbled. Her eyes stayed entirely focused on her magazine.

Kyon whipped around quickly, frantically placing the magazine back onto the shelf. He didn't want to be spotted with the thing, after all.

"I am terribly sorry," he apologized nervously. "I, uhhh, didn't see you there."

Her eyes moved back and forth with a feverish pace, absorbing every piece of information she could find. She had very little interest in responding, as she had now come across a particularly fascinating article titled "Alien Probing: Fact or Fiction?" Life was, after all, too short to respond to every moron who bumps into you. You've gotta stay focused and, above all us, you really want to know whether aliens will probe you in the dead of night. No one wants to be defenseless during a probing, after all. She must have a counterattack prepared for such an occurrence.

Kyon hung his head, feeling extremely embarrassed for having been so distracted. He planned briefly to make a run for it, to flee the scene of the crime, but his legs made no motion. It was almost as if his own body had turned against him, telling him that he couldn't leave just yet. Something entirely illogical was making him stay. Something completely outside of the ordinary. He was, quite literally, being glued to the spot by forces beyond his control. He was able to tilt his head back to its normal position, and his arms were able to sway here and there, but his legs refused to follow the orders his brain send them.

He took a deep cleansing breath and focused. He first focused on relaxing his eyes, which were darting about so quickly that he wasn't able to focus on his surroundings. They finally lay to rest, setting their field of vision directly in front of him. A thin girl wearing a dark blue jacket and jeans stood almost entirely motionless before him. She appeared to be a young, not a day older than twenty. Her flawless skin glistened within the light, perfectly reflecting the beauty of her youth. Beautiful brown hair hung down to her shoulders on both sides, with two cute yellow bows popping out from both sides of her head.

'No... it couldn't be.'

Kyon continued to study the specimen, hoping that through logical reasoning and determination he could come to a different conclusion than what rang true in his mind. Before him not only stood a beauty, but the girl he had been longing for. This was the girl who left his life, but had made his entire existence an unpredictable nightmare. The girl he had adored from the very moment she was gone. The girl he didn't realize he loved until it was too late.

'... It isn't her.'

His entire body turned to mush as he gaped awestruck at what was just within his reach. Surely she had forgotten all about him, and truly this couldn't be her. She looked far too young to be the Haruhi he had once known.

'I guess gods age rather gracefully... gah, what am I thinking?!'

Surely, this feeling was not unlike being hit in the head repeatedly with a lightning bolt. Every muscle within him screamed for action. If this was her, he couldn't let this opportunity slip. She had never left his mind since those days, and now may be his only chance. It was either he acted now, or slam his desk repeatedly against a work desk in the morning. His mind's resistance finally gave in to the aches of his heart, and he approached the girl, preparing himself for the worst.

"Say," he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Is that the most recent issue of The Truth?"

"What about it," she retorted coldly. Her eyes remained fixed on the page she was reading. Clearly, she wasn't the type to talk to just anyone. Even more proof to back up his muscles' argument.

"Nothing," he blurted. "It's just so weird running into a fellow reader. I love that magazine."

'I am the worst liar.'

An awkward fell between them, as she flipped the page with much vigor. It made a swishing sound that more resembled a man's neck cracking than anything else.

"This may seem strange," he walked forward a couple of steps, wanting to give it some air of confidence. "But I would swear that I know you from somewhere."

"Hmmm." It wasn't a question, more than it was a clear signal that she was becoming very irritable. She flipped to another page, far more distracted from the printed words then she was before.

He threw forth a supremely fake smile, in an attempt at looking friendly. He leaned forward, his head nearly coming into contact with her adorable little noggin. "You wouldn't so happen to be Ms. Suzumiya Haruhi, would you?"

She jolted upright at the mention of her name. Turning her neck to face her opponent head on, she wore a visibly vulnerable look on her face. She had made many enemies during her years, and this wouldn't be the first time she had to deal with one of them in public. Either that or he was just another stalker. Though, they were always treated in the same way as her enemies. A swift kick across the face usually did it.

Her eyes met with his, and it took but a moment for her heart to flutter with shock. The beat of the organ surged with a pace that caused her to drop the magazine that she had been so passionately devouring mere seconds ago. His brown eyes singed deeply into her, and for that moment, a flame that had been extinguished for over thirteen years had now roared back to life. It was him!

"... K-Kyon?!" She asked timidly, still in recovery from the sparks that had been flying between them. Nodding lightly, he watched as a mischievous grin grew slowly across her face. Her eyes lit up with that fiery passion that he remembered so fondly from back in the days of The SOS Brigade. The pure ecstatic joy that glowed from her expression spoke more than words could ever describe.

"Kyon!" She threw all of her weight towards him in an embrace that would have caused the 'unprepared' man to fall backwards onto the cold hard floor below. Kyon stood entirely rigid. Feeling her brush up against him was just too much for his poor little psyche to take.

"I never thought I'd end up running into you in a dump like this," she laughed giddily. "So how have you been?"

Her arms still remained tightly gripped around his mid-section, making it very difficult to fabricate coherent section. "I-I've been doing fine. It's, uhh, really weird meeting you like this, huh?"

Her arms slid away from his torso, coming back to rest beside her hips. "It must be fate that has brought us together like this!" She nodded enthusiastically, clearly having come to some sort of conclusion about an event that must have been purely coincidental.

'She hasn't changed a bit.'

"More importantly, how are you doing?"

She smiled, bending over to pick up the stray magazine lying on the floor. "Too good! I've got a really superb deal with a book publisher which basically allows me to write all the crap I want without them even paying the slightest attention. It's almost like they want me to write garbage!"

"So you're a writer then, huh?"

Haruhi put the magazine back in its respected spot, but then she noticed the covers that stood next to it, and nonchalantly hid it behind an issue of 'The Anime Otaku.' She obviously didn't want anyone to steal her reading material away.

"Yes sir," she smirked while placing a home cooking mag in front of 'The Anime Otaku.' "I have seven science fiction novels in print, and one non-fiction book." She straightened her back, cracked her neck, and sighed. "I have a long ways to go though. My writing isn't nearly as groundbreaking as it could be."

Kyon found it hard to believe that Haruhi every found the patience to be a writer. The youth he knew was spunky and impulsive, which completely went against the grain of what he envisioned great writers to be. There are certain skills that go with the art of creative writing, and they were all skills that she lacked.

'Times have changed.'

"Sooo, uhh... what do you write about?"

"All sorts of stuff," she replied. "I don't believe in just hunkering down with one subject. In science fiction, there are so many avenues you can go down, that it almost makes me crazy sometimes. I mean, what should I write about next? Aliens? Time travelers? Espers? I can never decide."

She raised her hand to her chin, deep in thought. "... You know, maybe I could write something with aliens, time travelers, 'and' espers. See! Just like that, a new brilliant idea swells in my mind."

It was almost as if no time had passed at all.

"But what are we lounging about here for anyways," she turned and tugged on his jacket. "Come on. We're going for a walk."

She gripped her hand tightly around his arm as she began dragging him out of the magazine aisle and towards the exit. The clerk merely looked at the two of them with a polite smile, as if this sort of thing happened all the time. For Kyon, it was an embarrassment. It looked as if a middle-aged man were literally being forced out of the store by a twenty-something who looked far too cute to possibly be threatening. He knew better than to judge Haruhi on appearances. She was a psychopath at heart. There was little doubt in his mind that she could snap at any moment, and he would be left unconscious in the freezing cold outside.

"You two have a great night," the clerk laughed.

Haruhi swirled towards the clerk and declared, "Imma gunna take this one home, Yorito!"

The clerk, who apparently went by the name of Yorito, shook his head. "Good luck with that, Haruhi."

"I don't need luck! We go waaay back."

'Someone kill me now.'

Yorito sighed. This wasn't the first man Haruhi had drug out of the store and scarred for life.

"As I said, you two have a great night."

"Not a great night. A glorious night!" Haruhi skipped out into the biting winter chill, as a reluctant Kyon gave up fighting against his goddesses' will.

The snowflakes had stopped their mad descent as the two spirits reconnected in the convenience store. The sidewalks had become mildly slick from the gentle peppering of white flakes, but that certainly didn't stop a certain overjoyed woman from losing her footing. Every one of her steps were performed with such gusto and vigor that there was little wonder that the sidewalk would punish her so. With but a gesture of fates hand, Haruhi went slipping, taking the innocent down with her.

"Accck," she screeched as a much heavier man fell on top of her. The two froze the moment their bodies collided, their eyes refusing to make contact with the other. Kyon's girth simply refused to move, for fear of making the situation anymore 'suggestive' then it already was. Haruhi simply basked in the moment, wishing it would last forever. The two laid in the positions for what felt like decades, until finally, one of them was brave enough to speak.

"You know, this is strangely erotic," Haruhi said with a quivering voice. "But you're sort of crushing my insides."

Kyon leapt to his feet, but in the process of doing so, fell straight on his back with a loud 'thump'. Haruhi would have sworn that she heard the breaking of bones, but decided that it would be best if she ignored such sounds.

"Rrgggh," he moaned. "I think I broke my back."

She rushed over to his side, crouching over his motionless body without the slightest bit of concern marked across her face.

"Can you move," she asked robotically.

"I think so."

"Good."

She stood up, looking up towards the cloudy night sky, losing herself in it. When you live in Tokyo, it makes it near impossible to see the stars at night. Yet, even without the twinkling lights to add that extra layer of wonder, you could often find her mind swimming in the dark void that can surround this planet. No matter how hard the human race tries, there is no escaping the darkness. There was also no possible way to avoid the light which would always shine through in the darkness. This was why she had made an oath to herself long ago. That if ever a light were to glimmer in her direction, she would not only resist denying it, but she would embrace it with open arms. Until the darkness was to fall again, she would keep warm within the light.

"Uhhhhh, would you mind giving me a hand here?"

She snapped out of her delusional visions of romance and back into reality. "Alright. But if you try falling over on me again, there'll be a penalty."

As she took a hold of his hand and hoisted him back into an upright position, she was reminded of how silly and pointless it was to dream like that. She had been alone for thirty long years, and any man she ever had an interest in was scared away by her outlooks and philosophies. No one would ever grow to love her. No one would ever bring her the light that searched for. Her existence was meant to remain in the dark, where she belonged. This was where she had been content for so long. Until she realized that she was lonely. When she realized that she wanted to be loved.

This reunion meant nothing.

"Did you have a nice fall there," she chuckled. "That looked like it really hurt."

"It hurt like hell," Kyon rubbed his head. "My back is really aching."

Haruhi choose to ignore the comment. If he had injured his back, then how were they supposed to have fun?

"Don't worry about it," she said supportively while linking her right arm into his. "So, are you going to treat me to dinner? Or are we just going to stay in my apartment, and I can show you some of the stuff I've been working on."

"Dinner sound ni-"

"Apartment it is!"

There was no reason not to treat this like a game. Things weren't going to work out in the end. She might as well enjoy the ride before she gets bucked off. Men weren't complicated. They just didn't want anything to do with her once they found out what was really behind her pretty exterior. Kyon already knew better than to expect a proper woman from her. She really hadn't changed much from the eccentric teen he knew back in the years of the SOS Brigade. The only difference between the Haruhi of the past and the Haruhi who now stood before him was merely the revelation that she couldn't face this world alone. The old Haruhi ignored the fact until it was too late, but now was a time for change.

Two entirely unique snowflakes had now melted into one beautifully deformed unit.

**Writer's Corner:**

**I would like to thank all of you for giving this fic a shot. I realize you have a lot of amazing choices on this site, and that, for some reason, you have decided to give this story a shot. It's really amazing of you!**

**Anyways, my entire reason for writing this fan-fic was that I wanted to address a huge problem that I see with the fan-fiction community. There is a lack of stories that take the main characters in any sort of directions that we hadn't already seen before. And t hose that do try and so are (I'll be honest) typically pretty poor. My goal with this particular project is just to write something that I would enjoy reading, and share it with all of you fans that probably love the show a whole helluva lot more than I do. I write stories to please a readership, so it would be nice to hear some feedback. Don't worry about being too brutal either. I can take it! Bring it on! It's better to know that people dislike my writing than be lied to. If this story doesn't meet your standards, please tell me. I'm all ears, baby!**

**Now that I've gotten that out of the way, I would like to point out a ton of 'anime' references that some of you might not have noticed. I don't' take this story 'too' seriously, so I often feel like, you know, leaving little easter eggs for those otaku sharp enough to spot them.**

**Reference #1: Tanigawa Productions**

**Teehee, that's the last name of the author behind the 'Haruhi' light novels. I felt it would be awesome to pay an homage to him somehow. **

**Reference #2: Sola Corporation**

**This is 'sort of' a reference to the anime Sola. I just thought the name was cool, and… you know, it sounded like a really awesome store name! Also, if you notice, I named the clerk 'Yorito,' which is the name of the main character in the series. I'm pretty sure I spelled the name slightly different… but I was waaaaay too lazy to check up on that one. Teehee.**

**Reference #3: The Adventures of Mii-Chan**

**This one is just… it really isn't too much of a reference, but it passed through my mind. Konata (in an episode of Lucky Star) asked Tsukasa what sort of a nickname they should give Kagami and… Mii-chan was one of them. So, in my sick little mind, that seemed to be the perfect thing to name the Sola Corporations mascot! … I'm a little strange sometimes. **

**Reference #4: Imma Gunna Take Him Home!**

**This was pretty much stolen from 'Higurashi.' Rena would say something along these lines quite often, and it's a quote that has really stuck in my mind ever since.**

**Anyways, that's all I have for now. Look forward to the next chapter! *waves happily* I hope you enjoyed my crap!**

**(the grammatical issues with Chapters 1 and 2 are going to be dealt with before I begin Chapter 3. Just a little update, lol)**


	2. Home Sweet Home

They had both been trudging through a winter wonderland for what felt like an age. Kyon's very fingers felt like they had been affected by frostbite, while Haruhi seemed to be entirely indifferent to the weather conditions surrounding her. It was almost as if her skin were made to withstand such extreme chill. The blue jacket which covered her torso seemed far too thin to protect from the cold, and yet, she continued marching onwards with a childlike grin on her face. Kyon began wishing that he had tripped into some sort of a nightmare, and at any moment he would be awakened from the misery. No such escape ever came, just a continuous onslaught of misery and torment.

'Does she really walk this far just to look at magazines?'

A sudden gust of wind whooshed by them with such a ferocity that Kyon couldn't help but groan in detest. She only chuckled; tugging at his arm like a slave driver would crack his whip.

"It's getting a bit nippy," she laughed. "It won't be too much longer now. We're getting reeaaally close."

'You said that ten minutes ago.'

Kyon had learned that, much like in the past, it was best to take anything Haruhi said with a grain of salt. She was not the type to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. She was more the type who would bribe and blackmail the jury. That mad smile she always sported could only mean that someone else was going through some sort of trauma on her behalf. A pure uncensored representation of the passion that goes forth in making other people's lives a living hell.

Though, truth be told, at this very moment Haruhi had become so ecstatic that she barely even noticed the cold. If her luck were a slot machine, her trip to Sola was hitting the jackpot. A childhood friend would be far easier to befriend than your average stranger, or at least, that's what she kept telling herself. It would take very little effort to befriend Kyon. From there on out, life would be different. Finally, there would be someone to call on the weekends when she had nothing to do. Finally, there would be someone there to comfort her. Finally, she wouldn't have to live vicariously through her fictional creations anymore. The world was about to change for the better, and now was her time to shine.

As they passed by numerous retailers and specialty shops, people stopped to stare at the wondrous sight that stood before them. A young girl, couldn't be a day older than twenty, was literally pulling an older man down the street. The girl looked like she could break out into a musical number at any given moment, while the man looked like he was ready to swallow a bullet. Exhaustion was riddled on his face, and many a passerby couldn't help but take pity for the poor soul. His anguish was visible for all to see.

Finally, her footsteps had stopped their methodical pace. Haruhi swirled around with a twinkle of pride glittering in her beautiful brown eyes, causing a momentary sensation of pain to run down Kyon's neck. Facing in the complete opposite direction as his captor, he sighed at his decision to face the hell that would be bestowed upon him for the next few hours. Turning slowly on his heels, there stood before him a sight too ghastly to imagine.

A rundown apartment complex.

Surely, a successful writer would be able to afford more luxurious living quarters than these? There, in all of its glory, stood the polar opposite of his beautiful Western styled home. The thought that people could live in a place like this every day was, in his mind, a ghastly suggestion. The good fortune he had stumbled upon, the riches and the green, had almost completely shielded him from the lower middle-class. Up until this very moment, where he was forced to stand next to it.

"Well," Haruhi sighed happily. "We're here. Home sweet home!"

Kyon choose to remain silent, afraid any word that might flee from his throat would be those of great distain for her lifestyle. Never wishing to leave a bad impression on a gorgeous young lady, he chooses the less violent alternative. This strategy involved keeping quiet until she made it abundantly obvious that it was your turn to speak.

'Just keep your mouth shut, and she won't assault you.'

"You've gotta be freezing out here," Haruhi rambled on. "Come on. I've got a whole case of American beer inside. Nothing quite like a good brewskey to help get you through the night, eh?"

He nodded in agreement, his attention now returning to his chilled motionless fingers. It was, perhaps, a good idea to head indoors.

Well before his thoughts were even able to process, he was once again being vigorously pulled along by the fiery passion of his host. The place smelt as if it hadn't been cleaned for months and, unless his eyes betrayed him, looked it too. Cobwebs could be found in every corner, and every surface was completely devoid of life. Not a single soul seemed to call this place home, or if they had, they certainly didn't wish to make anyone else feel welcome. Dead silence lingered within the air, as if to scare unwanted trespassers.

'It's like a graveyard.'

Each step that landed upon the pavement seemed to echo and rebound off the building with a haunting tone. No man of his caliber could ever call this place home. How could anyone call a place like this home? It was a rotting festering hell-hole from every direction. Yet, here was Ms. Suzumiya, scampering up the steps as if it were her own private castle. Neither the bland grey walls nor the most monstrous stench seemed to deter her enthusiasm in the least. She was simply delighted to showcase her cage to the newly caught prey.

The stairs, for some odd reason, seemed to feel distinctly flimsy underneath Kyon's feet.

'I'm shocked no one has fallen through the floor.'

Her hand finally let loose of his arm as she introduced him to her door. Large chips of paint were missing, as if it had been battered mercilessly. He smirked as an image of Haruhi rapidly kicking the innocent piece of wood swelled in his mind. There was little doubt in his mind that she had beaten up on the door at least once or twice while living here. If not once or twice a week.

"Oh," she exclaimed. "I've gotta warn you before we go in. I've got a pretty big bug problem."

'Oh joy.'

"Bug problem?"

Haruhi began fumbling around in her pockets, not quite remembering where she had put her keys. "Yeah. There's roaches crawling all over. You get used to it after a while, but I just wish the little things would find someone else's hair to sleep in."

'Jesus, I know I never believed in you before and... well... I still don't. But if you help me through this, I swear I'll start broadcasting some religious programming for you.'

He gulped, trying not to imagine the terrors that lay within her home. After a few moments of struggle, she finally pulled out a shiny pair of keys with a Mii-chan chain hanging from the ring.

"Don't worry," she reassured him. "It isn't 'that' bad! There's just a few of them here and there. You know, sort of crawling around in the bathtub, sleeping in the beer cans, and..." She jammed the key into the lock, twisting it from side to side violently. "Damn it! This door never wants to open for me!"

Taking a few steps back, she came leaping towards the door. Right leg extended outwards as if to take down a mortal enemy, the door came slamming open. Haruhi, on the other hand, came crashing on to her carpet like a jet airplane.

"Welcome to my humble home," she grumbled.

Kyon took a step within the belly of the beast, terrified to see what squirmed within the darkness. Perhaps they could spend the whole night like this. There's nothing particularly wrong with keeping the lights out. Maybe the bugs wouldn't scurry about if they figured there was no one around.

But alas, no escape was in sight. The lights came clicking on by Haruhi, who must have gotten herself to the light switch in record time, brought a dim yellow glow to the place. He caught, in the corner of his eye, several roaches scurrying away to safety. Haruhi's pounding feet must have seemed like monstrous vessels from their perspectives and Kyon paid a brief mental tribute to the many roach children of the roach families who had become lost in the Suzumiya stampedes. It was never easy being a creature that everyone disgusted.

In a way, he was a roach. Most of the people he worked for couldn't even stand the sight of him. He had flown in and taken a position of great authority without any prior experience. Even more bewildering was that he 'seemed' to perform flawlessly. It was never brought up to him, but he could feel it. He could feel how much they all hated him. They despised him like a bug.

"Take a seat anywhere," Haruhi said while making her way to a brown mini-fridge lodged in the upper-right corner of her living quarters. "I sure hope you don't mind Budweiser. Ever since they started selling American beer at Sola, I couldn't help but give it a try. These are some real class-A imports we're talkin about here." Thrusting the fridge open, she quickly whipped her hand inside, retrieving a six-pack with far more gusto than was necessary.

'Is she constantly racing against the clock or something?'

"You're free to help yourself to whatever is in the fridge," she stated while bouncing the six-pack with a face of pure contentment.

"I'm fine for now," he blurted out. "And thank you."

As her slender legs began striding towards his person, Kyon quickly glanced about the room. Without a doubt, Haruhi was a slob. Leftover potato chip bags were found all over the floor, giving him very little room to sit without hearing the crunching sound of 'Doritos' beneath his buttocks. One sleeping bag lay in the middle of it all, like a safe haven for those stranded within this woman's grand disaster.

Haruhi plopped herself down onto the floor, landing on a bag of Lays in the process. Kyon, now realizing that it was okay to ruin Haruhi's horrible carpeting with smashed chips, did the same. With a flick of the wrist and a toss, a Budweiser was brought from Haruhi to Kyon. Before his very eyes, a glorious wonder of nature unfolded; a woman who could easily drink him under the table. Never before had he seen something quite as amazing as what drank before him. Haruhi had not only begun drinking, but she had already finished her first can.

"You seriously don't know how cool it is to have you over like this," she said without croaking from the sudden mass of alcohol that was now rushing through her body. "You wouldn't believe how long it has been since I've had any company. Most guys usually ditch out on me before we even get this far!"

'They have common sense. What do you expect?'

"Why'd we drift apart like that anyways," she asked while opening her second can. "I tried contacting Kozumi, Yuki, and Mikuru... but there was never an answer."

A surge of frustration came boiling through Kyon's veins, as if he had just been hit in the foot with a large hammer. Memories of his late teenage years resurfaced, and most particularly, all of the times he tried to communicate with his fellow Brigade members. He even went through the trouble of teaching Yuki how to send email, just so he could stay connected with her at all times. Of all the people he had expected to reply back, he had always secretly hoped that he and Haruhi would keep in touch after their high school days.

"I had sent you dozens of emails," he tried to say nonchalantly. "And you never responded to any of them."

"I never got any emails... from anyone."

Her face fell slightly, as she briefly reflected upon the pain of rejection. They all hated her, and she always knew it. All of her life, she pretended not to care. However, at that very moment in her youth, the flames of their hatred had finally scorched her. Seeing her email clogged with nothing but spam was heartbreaking. No one cared for her. For the few years that the Brigade stayed alive, she felt as if she had finally created a place where she belonged. She was with friends. They had accepted her for who she was, even if they had to tolerate her ups and downs. Now, after all that time, the boy she cared for the most was telling her otherwise. That he had tried to contact her. That he cared for her in return back in those days.

"You didn't receive any of them," he asked softly.

"None of them," she shook her head. "Did you get any of mine?"

"Not a single word."

The beer she had been holding was now forced down the path of his long lost brother, as his liquid began spilling down her throat.

"I figured you had run off with some exotic American beauty and never wanted to speak to me again," she smirked. "Glad to know I was wrong about that."

"I guessed you were just bored with me."

One of Kyon's greatest fears was Haruhi's indifference to ordinary life. Even if he were to have pursued a relationship with her back then, it would have never worked out. She wasn't interested in ordinary men. She would want someone unique. Someone different. He had always been ordinary.

"Ha! Just because I was bored with you didn't mean I was going to stop bossing you around." She began laughing hysterically, washing it down with another chug of beer. "I was a cruel mistress then, and I'm a cruel mistress now. You never want to give up on a potential resource, Kyon."

Suddenly grinning from ear to ear, Haruhi was amazed at how quickly the thought of abusing Kyon cheered her up. Kyon just sat in silence for a moment, realizing that he was being referred to as nothing more than a 'resource'.

"So you haven't been able to contact the other members either," Kyon asked.

"It's like they had fallen off the face of the Earth or something."

Her grin stared firmly in place, even as the tone of her voice was obviously giving into her memories of disappointment.

"I can't say I really blame them though," she continued. "If I were them, I would have stayed as far away from me as humanly possible."

Kyon stayed motionless as Haruhi once again attempted to drown out her sorrows with alcohol.

"You know," she sighed. "There are a lot of things I wish I could go back and change. It isn't like I'm happy with everything I did back in high school. Sure, it was a blast when I did it, but..." Another sigh. "... Now I've sort of realized that the only time I had ever truly enjoyed myself was at the expense of everyone else around me. It's kind of sad really."

Her eyes spoke volumes as they lowered shamefully towards the floor. She had never shown this side of herself before. She was opening up to a man that, after all the years of separation, had become a complete stranger. Yet there she was, about ready to break out into tears over actions that had happened over a decade ago.

Kyon laughed quietly to himself.

"I never thought I'd see the day. Suzumiya Haruhi feeling regret." He chuckled again, loud enough that she could hear. "Never thought it would happen in my lifetime."

"Well, I have changed since then. Maybe not by much, but still enough to open my eyes to certain things." Another mouthful of liquid courage slipped down her throat. "Do you remember Mikuru?"

'Larger than life.'

"Of course."

She rubbed her eyes with a quick jerking motion, almost as if she were keeping herself awake; though it was nothing more than a nervous twitch.

"That's something that I would actually go back and fix," she admitted solemnly. "She was such a cutie. So really didn't deserve all that torment I layered on her."

"Oh. You mean the groping?"

Her expression lit up like a batch of fireworks.

"And the bunny suit! Do you remember the bunny suits?"

'Make up your mind! Did you enjoy it, or didn't you?'

"Ooooh, trust me, I have vivid memories of the bunny suits."

"That was fun..." she chuckled giddily. "Do you remember when we were passing flyers around at school?"

Kyon remembered opening the door to their club room and finding two gorgeous women in get-ups that would have made Hefner proud. It was Haruhi's intention to spread flyers around campus advertising 'The SOS Brigade' while wearing extremely revealing bunny girl cosplays. Needless to say, the adventure didn't sit well with school officials.

"How could I ever forget," Kyon shook his head. "It was kind of like being in hell, but instead of demons and pitchforks there were bunny girls and undergarments."

'This is heaven you speak of, foolish man.'

"Nearly traumatized poor little Mikuru to death!" Loud boisterous laughter came erupting from her mouth, but as her thoughts came back to her, she slowly gained composure over herself. "That poor girl."

"I'm sure she's doing just fine."

"Yeah..."

There was a long period of time where neither of them uttered a single syllable. Kyon was still in shock from the revelation that Haruhi had feelings of compassion for other human beings, while Haruhi was so trapped within a nightmarish walk down memory lane that she forgot she was even in a conversation. After a particularly depressing memory of blackmailing the computer society with 'sexual harassment' threats, she snapped back into reality. Kyon was gaping at her awkwardly, obviously swimming in his thoughts as well.

She smirked, basking in the attention. "I think I know who your personal favorite was, Kyon!"

He gulped. She had him backed up against a corner now. He fidgeted back and forth slightly, hoping her gaze would divert back to the floor again.

"I saw how you eyed Yuki! You know, there's very little point in denying it anymore."

'Oh, thank god.'

He straightened up, feeling very relieved that she wasn't referring to herself.

"You've gotta be joking," he laughed.

"I'm dead serious! You had the hots for her, didn't you?"

Images of the artificial humanoid life form known as 'Yuki Nagato' came flashing back from Kyon's memory. A bookworm of sorts, Nagato had helped him out of several tough binds. She was cute, but far from being the gorgeous fallen angel Haruhi was in his eyes.

"She was cute, I won't deny that. Infact, you were all very cute. I could have never picked a favorite."

Scowling like a wounded lion, Haruhi grumbled to herself.

"That always pissed me off."

"Everything pissed you off."

Another pause ensued, as Kyon practically held his breath waiting for Haruhi to pour new life into their exchange. This was turning out to be a very strange evening.

"You know, now that I really think about it, I haven't changed much." She finally spoke, breaking the ice that was slowly hardening around them. "The world just keeps on turning, but I continue to stand almost completely unaffected. It's scary."

"Well, you are who you ar-"

She cut him off, unaware that he was speaking. "I really wish I was more like a chameleon. You can just blend into whatever social situation you fall into and you just, you know, mesh perfectly with whatever is going on."

"Everyone feels that way. Human beings don't just change overnight though. It takes a lot more effort and determination then it's really worth."

""I try my hardest to be different from everyone else. Then one day I realized that I'm just like every other eccentric. There's nothing unique about us. We're just another group within the mass of society." Chug chug chug. "Then I realized something about the life I had been living. It's all just a giant game, and every one of us is a pawn. Like a pawn, we just sit by and wait to get knocked off the board. No matter how hard we try, Kyon, we're all going to be knocked off the board someday. It's inevitable." Chug chug chug. "Which is why, when life comes to knock you over on your ass, you just put it in a chokehold and break its arm. Or at least that's the way I'm choosing to look at it."

"So... have you succeeded?"

"... I'm working on it."

Admiration. Complete admiration. This was something Kyon hadn't felt since high school. Though he often despised Haruhi and everything that she did, he had always secretly admired her passion; her desire to live life against the rules. To live the way she wished to live, even if it was against the norms of society. When she was passionate, there was no one more attractive in the entire world.

'It's happening all over again.'

"Oh," she exclaimed while jumping to her feet. "That reminds me! I haven't shown you my writing yet!"

'Writing?'

**Writer's Corner:**

***waves happily* Yo yo yo yo! How has everyone been doing? Have you all brushed your teeth lately? That's good!**

**I can not tell you how happy I am with the reception that went along with the first chapter of this story. Sorry this chapter took so long, but.... my priorities have shifted somewhat. The responsibilities of 'real life' and the desire to spend as much time as humanly possible with my (wonderful) girlfriend has left me with a lot less time to devote to fan fiction writing. **

**I've gotta say that I easily prefer this chapter to the first. The interactions between Haruhi and Kyon were a lot of fun to write; even if Haruhi is acting a bit out-of-character sometimes (my excuse is that it has been over a decade... so there!). **

***bows* I hope you enjoyed my crap! I hope you look forward to more of my crap. I will attempt to produce said crap as soon as possible for your enjoyment.**

**:) Wheeeee! Fan-fiction is soooo much fun!**

**(The grammar issues for Chapters 1 and 2 are going to be dealt with before I continue with Chapter 3. Just a little update, lol)**


	3. The President and the Writer

She went fleeing off to her bookshelf, as Kyon sat in a complete daze, trying to make sense of everything that was going on around him. It certainly wasn't something that occurred everyday. You meet an old friend at the supermarket; you start hitting it off, and the next thing you know she literally forces you into her apartment to show off her writing. This wasn't the sort of activity that normal people would partake in. You just don't go to someone's apartment and start drinking their beer as they begin writing out their life story for you. It just wasn't ordinary.

If he had his way, they would have just exchanged emails and called it a night. Maybe a phone number if he were feeling daring enough, but certainly not a six-pack under her roof.

"Hopefully they're all here this time," she chimed from in front of her bookshelf. "The other day I had lost one of em', and it took me forever to find it again!"

With a sudden lurch of her hands, she grabbed a short group of hard covers that were wedged tightly between volumes of unsavory h-rated manga and two paperback science fiction novels by Frank Herbert. Once the five hard covers flew out of place, all of the literature around it tumbled down in a horrific mess. Dune was now sitting uncomfortably on top of 'Boys and Their Playthings'. It was sight that, Kyon envisioned, would have most likely have made Mr. Herbert throw up in his grave.

"Maybe if you cleaned up the place, you would be a bit more organized." He shook his head, pretending as if he didn't see the cockroach that ran in front of his legs as he uttered the word 'organized'. "I don't see how you could possibly get any work done around here."

Haruhi had all five of her hard covers towered illogically on the palms of her hands, which was beginning to resemble a small skyscraper on the verge of collapse. The books wiggled back and forth with every step she took, as if they were all panicked individuals trying desperately to escape the clutches of a clumsy behemoth.

"You have to understand, Kyon. A writer's passi-" She tripped over her own feet, miraculously able to restore her balance without knocking over her miniature book building. "Wow, that would have been a nasty fall." She whipped her hair back, proud to have made it all the way back to her target goal without an incident. "Annnywaays! As I was saying, a writer must completely absorb herself within her work. I don't have the time, nor the energy to clean up."

"But yet you have enough time to read manga I see..." He nodded in the direction of Mr. Herbert's neighbors.

With a sigh, she dropped all five hardcover books on Kyon's outstretched right foot. He bit back a yelp, but only with the cooperation of every single cell in his body.

"Those are for inspirational purposes!" Haruhi huffed as she took a seat in front of her now quivering guest. "I would never be caught dead reading any of those if it didn't enhance my writing abilities."

Kyon cleared his throat loudly, building up the courage to counter Haruhi's argument.

"How exactly does reading..." He glimpsed over at the shelf once more, reading aloud the first title that caught his eye. "...Boy Plus Boy Paradise enhance your writing ability?"

"It titillates me when I'm bored."

His face turned a bright cheery red.

'That was way too much information.'

An ominous smirk creased through her mouth, as her line clearly had the desired effect she hoped it would. Her gaze quickly shifted down to her collection, which lay scrambled all around, and on, Kyon's foot.

"That's a lot of books you've written there," Kyon said, desperate to change the flow of conversation.

"Everyone a cutting-edge blockbuster!" Her hands moved gracefully around his shoe, picking up every last fallen book and placing them gently into a neat pile on her lap. The book which lay proudly on top was handed to Kyon shyly, as Haruhi's face became surprisingly subdued. "This one is probably my most personal."

Accepting the hardcover with a firm grip, he studied the cover with dutiful interest. It seemed to channel some sort of Christian symbolism, as a scrawny grey creature with a massive cranium hung crucified from a bleeding red cross. Around him swarmed a mob, brandishing their pitchforks straight towards his mid-section. Kyon studied the creatures face for a moment, as he noticed the beings dead black eyes told more of a story than he imagined the entire first chapter was. The thing's eyes clearly sent the message that he would welcome death. It would gladly welcome death. It was clearly suffering.

"Tears for a Fallen Angel," Kyon muttered the title. The black lettering didn't stand out from the rest of the cover, as it blended perfectly with the scene that was created around it.

Flipping over to the back cover, a golden glint caught Kyon's eye. A small emblem shaped as a ribbon lay embedded into the back cover, with the caption 'Best Sci-Fi Novel of 2014' written beneath it. Under this, a brief listing of other awards scrawled down the remainder of the cover, until finally concluding with the statement:

"Suzumiya Haruhi has crafted nothing short of a genre classic, turning old-fashioned clichés on their heads in a truly breathtaking opus of steel cold science fiction and liberating romance. 'Tears for a Fallen Angel' is a masterpiece."

-Patricia Martin

Author of 'Contact in Kyoto'

and 'Young, Blonde, and Dorky: An Autobiography'

"Oh my god..." he gaped, struggling to find the words. "You've won a lot of awards for this."

Twiddling with her thumbs nervously, she couldn't help but feel just a little proud of herself. "It won the Saturn award for Best First-Time Writer. That's the one I'm the most proud of."

"Wow..." Of all the things he would imagine Haruhi becoming, a successful science fiction writer was not one of them. He had always envisioned her being a part of one of those 'nut job' organizations in charge of tracking Yeti or some bizarre fictitious phenomenon of the sort. To think that she had chosen this particular path was completely beyond his comprehension.

He stared admirably into her eyes, noting how little she had changed. The Suzumiya Haruhi of today looked exactly like the Suzumiya Haruhi he knew as a boy. Yet, the Haruhi he knew wouldn't have the patience to write a chapter, let alone an entire book. The mere suggestion of Haruhi having written anything of quality challenged all of his previous preconceptions.

"I didn't realize that you were so talented, Haruhi."

"Neither did I." She shrugged modestly. "To be honest, I just write whatever I feel like, and for some reason, critics seem to really eat it up."

_'Haruhi? Modest? ... Is this some sort of trap?'_

Chuckling lightly to himself, he couldn't seem to break his gaze from her. Her eyes studied him cautiously, processing his every motion.

"I'll have to..." snicker "... I'll have to read it sometime... hehehe... HAHAHA!" A hearty laugh filled the room, erupting from his mouth like a volcano. "Sorry, sorry." Control flowed over his body again, as he picked his brain trying to remember what he was going to say. "It's just so... I'm just really really impressed."

"I always felt it could be better," she responded earnestly. "A lot better."

"I'm sure all writers feel that way though." He brushed off her comment with a motion of his arm. Haruhi stared at the floor, her yellow bows sticking out like sore thumbs. "So, uhhhh, what is this little magnum opus of yours about?"

"Oh!" Her head flung back evenly onto her shoulders, her bows bopping lightly with the sudden jerk of activity. "It's a little hard to explain without sounding absurd." She grinned. "It's about aliens."

"Doesn't surprise me in the least."

"It isn't what you think though," she retorted in a strangely apologetic manner. "It functions as a highly effective romance. That's the core of the story!"

The hands seemed to communicate her ideas and passion far more than her words, as they were quite literally being flung about in all manner of strange configurations.

"You see, it's about mankind's first contact." Her hands tightened into fists. "No real surprises with that. I mean, people have been writing science fiction stories around that concept for decades." The hands loosened, becoming as floppy as pancakes. She shook her head back in forth, obviously trying to shoo away her sudden string of negativity. "The only thing is, contemporary science fiction really pisses me off. Whenever contact is made, the aliens always just end up killing everyone! It isn't effective storytelling, you know." The arms which were the transports for her arms were now moving in subtle circular motions, while the hands came back into their fist positions. "I mean, come on! As much as I love watching humanity get destroyed, it starts to get really old after a while." Her arms shut down, leaving her hands completely motionless by her sides. "But you know one movie that really went above and beyond that?"

"Hmmm?"

"Close Encounters of the Third Kind." The index finger on her right hand was now pointing outwards like a javelin. "It was the main influence for the story. That movie made aliens, you know, seem somewhat plausible." The javelin remained erect and unmoving. It was as if she forgot that her index finger was as stiff as a board. "They had majesty!" She thrust her finger suddenly. Forwards and back. "They had class!" Forwards and back. "They felt like real intelligent beings." The javelin falls and curls back into the hand. "But... at the end of that whole film... we never understand them. No movies seem to have the guts to portray 'their' culture and how 'they' function."

Her shoulders scrunched up around her neck, and then released in a silent sigh. "So I kind of figured, you know, if you're going to introduce an alien culture to a reader, why not focus the entire story around a romance?"

"So, is this an inter-species romance?"

"Of course," she exclaimed cheerfully. "Otherwise it would just be really boring." The smooth wrinkleless top of her hand flattened out, all of her fingers out stretched. "These aliens come down to Earth to, you know, make contact." Fingers dangle downwards, swaying back and forth. "The first aliens on Earth pick out random people from the planet Earth to basically be their 'tour guides'." Hand clenches up, one finger stretched outwards. She returned to the javelin form. "That's where our main hero comes in. He completely falls for the human form that the alien chick he's representing puts up." Eyes close while hands move in circular motion once again. "She's kind of a soft-spoken seductress. She's got lavender hair; she's fairly short, and really really thin."

_'Where have I seen this before?'_

"He completely falls head over heels in love with her. He learns all about her culture through this psychic connection she sets up between them, but..." Haruhi's eyes remained closed as she struggled to keep her voice even. "He convinces her to stay human, and that eliminates all of her natural born defenses. She is slaughtered brutally by a hate group within her own apartment." Her eyes remained closed, though her hands were still telling the story with vivid visual flair. "There's blood everywhere and her head was clearly smashed in... on the same bed where they had made love."

Her smile returned to break the melancholy as her eyes slid open once more. "So what ends up happening is that the main character ends up becoming this amazing historical figure, like a 'peace maker' for the whole of the alien population on Earth. He takes a stand, and fights the oppression that this particular race faces. It's really inspirational!"

Despite her sudden bursts of enthusiasm, the emotion that creased her expression was that of discontent.

"My real problem is..." She released an audible sigh. "... I really love the story, but I hate my writing. I never feel like I give my ideas justice."

"From what I'm reading here," his eyes darted across the inside of the dust cover. "They all seem to love you. I mean, this one author said that you were 'like a gentle breeze clearing the filth that had been infecting the sci-fi genre.' Last time I checked, that is considered pretty high praise."

"Yeah," she grumbled. "But they don't know what the story 'could' have been. I mean, I doubt any of them even cried. What good is a tragedy if it can't move someone to tears, right?"

"I'm sure it's fantastic." He placed the book gently on the floor, being cautious as to not smash any bugs that might have been resting in the spot. "To think that Suzumiya Haruhi would grow up to be an award winner. In literature, no less."

"I think the passion and drive to write the things I do just comes naturally to me." Her eyes glimmered as she lost herself in a train of creative thought. "I can just close my lids, and pretend like its all real, you know. Then I open them back up after I've got a clear enough vision of what I wish to convey. Then I just go ahead and type my heart away."

"If you're such a successful author, why are you living in a place like this?"

"No one bought the damn books," she shook her head with frustration. "It was almost like they were allergic to them or something." She bit down on her lip, giving the matter a serious amount of thought. "I really don't understand how a book can win so many little doodads and not get picked up by anyone." With a quiet fury that seemed to make the very hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, she snatched the last beer from her six-pack and quickly took part in the duty of drinking it down to nothing. "It..." gulp gulp "...really starts to piss me off..." gulp gulp "... now that I think about it..." gulp gulp gulp "... and now that beer is gone. Just one more!"

With that, she stumbled back to her feet and made a short voyage back to the refrigerator.

"Don't you think you've had enough?"

"I have a really high alcohol tolerance level," she bragged. "The worst that happens is that I start to get a little pissy." The fridge swung open with an audible squeak. "But only a little bit."

"Well," he laughed nervously. "That's... reassuring?"

_'Is she an alcoholic?'_

She snatched up an ice cold six-pack before slamming the refrigerator shut with a heavy 'thunk.' Plopping down belly first on the floor, she had apparently become too lazy to walk from the door of the fridge and back.

"I'm going to let you borrow some of those," she pointed at the pile which had returned to its previously scattered state. "But you have to give em' back by the end of the month. Got that!"

"I'm not sure I'll have enough time to-"

"Ahh, come on!" She pouted, opening her can with a snap and a sizzle. "You can't be THAT busy, are you?"

Liquid courage drained into her system, kicking her motor mouth back into high gear. "Now that I think of it, you haven't mentioned anything about a career, huh?" She giggled, slithering towards him playfully.

"Sssssoooo," she hissed.

"Well," he stumbled. "Ummmm... would you please stop doing that."

"Doing what?"

"That snake thing. It's really freakin' me out."

"Okkkaaaay," she taunted while folding her legs Indian style. "Just answer the question then."

"Well, I'm uhhh..."

'Why are you so nervous? It isn't like this is the first time you've told a girl this'

"I'maproducerforatelevisioncompany," he mumbled madly.

"Huh?"

"I'm a producer for a television company."

_'Calm down! Why are you sweating?!'_

"Oh really?!!" Her legs stretched forward as if by reflex. "What kind of a television company do you work for?! I bet you make a ton of money, huh?"

"Ummm..." he chuckled nervously. "You're never going to believe this."

"Oh, come on! If I managed to write an award winning book, I'm sure nothing you could say would really shock me."

"Well..."

_'Courage, Kyon. Courage!'_

He paused. "The truth is, and this is the truth, I'm not just a producer. I'm actually the president of an entire channel."

"Wait wait wait wait! Lemme try and guess. You're the president of Tanigawa Productions, right?!

Silence. Nothing but an incredibly long and uncomfortable silence could be heard after Haruhi made her little joke.

"......" Kyon's embarrassment wrapped his mouth shut.

Haruhi's jaw dropped as she realized the gravity of her statement.

"... No way."

"Way."

"Wow... that is like..."

The throat from which a high-pitched girly squeal would soon unleash itself struggled to swallow the saliva which accumulated in her mouth. From head to toe, her entire body felt as if it had been struck with an electric current. She couldn't hold it back any longer. She had to let it out.

"EEEEeeeeeeeeeeeEEEE," she squealed loudly. Darting to her feet, Haruhi shook with excitement. "Oh my god, Kyon! That's seriously amazing!"

No matter how hard she tried, the energy wouldn't simmer down. "I swear, I'm going to faint. I never would have thought that... I-I mean... wow!"

"It's really not that big of a deal," he responded modestly.

"Not a big deal?! Kyon, you're like royalty! Just the fact that you're within my presence is, actually, starting to make me feel just a bit unworthy." She dropped onto his lap flirtatiously; her back turned towards his face. "You have a big house, huh?"

"I, uhh, guess you could say that."

_'Don't you go growing on me now! Don't you go growing!'_

"How big?"

"It's big enough."

"No no no, I need exact measurements here."

"It's really big." All feeling left his body. He had become comfortably numb.

"Really big isn't an exact measurement."

"I'm really kind of embarrassed by the whole thing."

"What is there to be embarrassed about?" She turned to face him, still seated comfortably in his lap. "You're like a god!"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that."

"But Channel Tanigawa is the most popular station on TV. People would die to be in your shoes." Staring longingly into his eyes, a deviant flair sparkled in her sockets. "Looks like I'm going to have to try the whole seduction trick, huh?"

'No. Down boy. Heel!'

She leapt off of him, giggling ecstatically as she skipped to the other side of the room. "Y-You seriously shudda seen tha-" The laugh became more and more violent until finally tears began forming on her cheeks. "That was priceless! Absolutely priceless."

With a final act of forced reservation, Haruhi put a lock on her giggles. However, her sudden excess of enthusiasm seemed to possess no cap.

"We're totally going to go clubbing sometime!" Rocking back and forth on the balls of her feet, she looked as if she were addressing the wall. "We can go shopping too! You know, there's this jacket that I've been meaning to get for the long-"

"Hey! Just because I have money, doesn't mean that I'm going to buy you anything." Kyon felt agitated. It was clear as day what kind of manipulation Haruhi was attempting to pull. She would continue to be friendly and outgoing, but in return, she wanted him to buy her the things she would never be able to afford.

"And why not?" Her brown eyes took a shade of innocence. "Don't you want to help out an old friend? I mean what else are you going to spend your money on? I'm a worthwhile investment!"

'Don't fall for it, man. She's just using you.'

Well... uhhhhh....." Her eyes bore into him like those of a starving stray kitty. "...Shit. Fine, I'll buy you whatever you want."

"Yaaaaaahoooooo!" Galloping to her millionaire's right side, Haruhi couldn't help but prod his ribs gently with her foot. "I feel like I've won the lottery or something."

_'Oh Kyon. Why must you hurt yourself in this way, Kyon?' _

As the irritating behavior of Suzumiya Haruhi weighed more and more heavily on his mind, the President of Channel Tanigawa decided that perhaps it was best for him to go. He didn't wish to get into any more trouble than he already had, and Haruhi's constant barrage of flirting and teasing might just lead him into a situation he would later regret. The last thing he needed right now was to wake up with Haruhi clinging to his body.

Secretly, that's what he had been craving throughout the course of their encounter.

"What time is it?" No matter what time, it's time to go.

"About 11:40. Why?"

_'11:40! It really is time to go then!'_

Leaping to his feet with the ferocity of a saber tooth tiger, Kyon's body was already at the door before his mind was aware of what had happened.

"Shit. I didn't realize it was that late." He turned the doorknob with reluctance. "I've gotta go."

While his thoughts had been following Haruhi to her apartment, the presentation he was about to give about next year's 'Summer Block' had completely slipped under all of the excitement around him. Not that it would matter much if he were at the presentation or not. He certainly wasn't the brains behind his operation.

"You know," Haruhi spoke calmly. "Tanigawa Productions is only a couple of blocks away."

"I know. It's going to take me forever to get home." He let out a deep sigh, knowing deep down that he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight, no matter how much he hurried. His wakeup call was in five hours, and remembering the long cold trek to Haruhi's apartment wasn't helping to ease his mind.

"I'm trying to say that you can stay here, moron!" A hint of fury flamed in her words. "There's no point in walking all the way home when I have an extra sleeping bag just for this sort of occasion. You see, it's all part of the plan."

_'Part of the plan, huh?'_

Kyon released the door handle, finally giving in to her will. "You're really evil, you know that?"

"It gets the job done."

As Haruhi dug her extra sleeping bag from under a brown box with the title 'Research Materials' written across it in black ink, Kyon began to wonder how anyone would be able to sleep in a place like this. A haunting image of a cockroach laying eggs in his ear didn't help matters.

_'Do cockroaches lay eggs?'_

"It makes perfect sense, Kyon." She laid out his bag mere inches away from hers. "Tanigawa is only a walk away from here. So we can have a sleep over!"

He noted the proximity of the two sleeping bags. This was bad. This was very bad. He briefly considered taking residence in the bathroom, but quickly shrugged off the notion. If the bugs were this bad in the main portion of the apartment, he could just imagine what the bug colonies in the restroom would be.

"Isn't this sort of... like..." he struggled to convey his worries in words.

"What?"

"You sure you're comfortable with a guy sleeping here."

"Don't go getting any ideas," Haruhi smirked. "If you try anything, heads will roll! You got that."

"So you're completely okay with me sleeping here."

"Why wouldn't I be okay with it?"

He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Well, you know. I'm a man. You're a woman. Sleeping within close proximity of each other."

"I have a right foot, Kyon. A right foot that has your face's name written all of over it if you continue that train of thought."

She swung her right foot at an invisible attacker just for demonstration. Haruhi was, clearly, not a woman you wanted to mess around with.

"... Okay. We're cool then."

"More than cool. Glorious!" With that, Haruhi began unzipping her jacket. She threw the piece to the side, revealing a thin white undershirt, which she began stripping away before Kyon became completely aware of the situation that was unfolding in front of him.

_'What the hell?!'_ Retreating to the restroom with all the haste his legs would allow, he heard a loud crunch underneath his shoe. The room was plunged into darkness with the slamming of the door. Though, a few moments later, Kyon wished he had just waited in the dark.

With a flick of the light switch, he saw an entire family of five roaches flee from his sight and into the shower. He was so terrified he didn't even bother to check what he had stepped on.

"Okay," Haruhi called. "I'm decent."

Glad to leave the festering hell hole Haruhi used as a washroom behind, he was greeted with the image of a beautiful woman stretched out in her sleeping bag. Though, the fact that she apparently couldn't afford a futon disturbed him a little.

"You know, I left my suitcase at home. I don't even have my presentation materials." He took off his shoes, struggling to find a spot where it wouldn't immediately become a bug heaven. Finally finding a spot next to Suzumiya's shoes on top of the 'Research Materials' box, he gave up his search and placed them directly beside hers. He had his doubts that the box would protect them.

"Well," she sighed. "You can make something up, can't you?"

"Wouldn't be the first time actually." He began unbuttoning his pants, before realizing the obvious blunder which followed such an action. "I think I'll, ummmm, sleep in my clothes."

"Go ahead. Strip down. I really don't care." Her eyes remained wide open, fixed on him.

"I think I'll pass." He curled up in his sleeping bag, intentionally turning in the opposite direction of where Haruhi was facing. "Anyways, goodnight."

"One of us has to turn out the lights."

He groaned. "Not going to be me."

"Kyon, who welcomed you under their roof?"

Another groan emitted from Kyon's mouth, this one a tad softer than the last. "Your house. Your light switch."

"Alright," she grumbled. "Fine. I see how this goes."

She crawled out from within her cozy futon, while Kyon refused to take a single glance at her.

"Man," she whined. "It's times like these where I really wished I had pajamas.

'Wah?!'

"Y-You mean you're not weari-"

"Yeah, it sucks." The lights went out with a click. Returning to her location of slumber, Haruhi cackled lightly to herself. "Guess we'll have to go buy some."

_'What am I, her husband?'_

"Goodnight Kyon," she said with a surprising degree of sugary sweetness. "I'm really glad we ran into each other, you know?"

"So am I," he smiled. He felt his lids grow heavy. "Goodnight Haruhi."

"Sweet dreams, Kyon."

"Don't let the cockroaches lay eggs in your ear."

"They can do that?"

He chuckled. "Night."

"Say Kyon."

"Hmmmm?"

"Would you... would you like to do this again sometime?"

"...I'd love to."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"You aren't jerking my chain, right?"

"No."

"I had a lot of fun tonight, Kyon. I mean... I haven't had this much fun since high school."

"Neither have I."

"So next time we'll go to your place, right?"

"If you want."

"Alright! Do you have a pool?"

"Yes. It's indoors."

"Wow, really?! You must be even more loaded than I expected. What else do you have?"

"Goodnight Haruhi."

"Goodnight Kyon."

They both fell asleep at the same exact moment, content with the outcome of their magical evening.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Welcome back everybody! It's been a really long time since I wrote Chapter 2, but things have been a little too hectic for fan-fiction writing as of late.**

**I'm not quite sure what to make of this Chapter. Originally, everything that happened within this Chapter was going to be a part of Chapter 2, but then my logic came into play and I figured Chapter 2 would end up being 'waaaaaaaay' too long if I included all of this. So, the last half of that Chapter is now Chapter 3.**

**I write fan-ficiton in a very 'stream of thought' manner. I don't worry about what I'm writing too much. So naturally, I often times feel that certain chapters are better than others. Out of what I've written so far, this is my probably my least favorite. I love the interactions between Haruhi and Kyon, but I was beginning to feel like my writing was becoming hindered by the apartment. To put it lightly, I'm very glad that Chapter 4 will be taking us away from that terrible terrible place. I don't intend to write about cockroaches for a very long time now.**

**:) As stated in previous entries, please leave your 'honest to suzumiya' reviews. If you feel the fic sucks, tell me. If you think I've destroyed the characters, tell me. If something fascinates you, please tell me. I love reading reviews, and knowing that people are actually reading my work (whether it's crappy or not) is all the incentive I need to keep writing.**

**Sorry for the late update. I'll try to keep on the ball from here on out. **

**I hope you have enjoyed my crap!**


	4. Sweet Goodbyes

In a sleeping bag surrounded by insects and crunched Doritos chips, Kyon experienced the most blissful and uninhibited sleep in all of his years. Perhaps it was the sudden rush of nostalgia that came with the evening's discussions, or perhaps it was the realization that he would soon become an active participant in the life of a woman he had desperately desired, or maybe it was a balanced mix of both. Why he found such comfort within her company was a question that lingered within his sleep, accumulating in the creation of a dreamscape he never wished to wake from.

Only one image stayed within him, though the complex emotions anchored to it were beyond even his own comprehension. The image was that of two hands grasping each other. The simplicity of the dream burned into his subconscious, setting the path that was to be tread until the morning. Though he could not see any further than that which was presented, he was certain of one thing. The serene frame which stretched peacefully upon his mind was of him holding the hand of his goddess. A white light shined brightly behind this interlacing of spirits, as if nothing else existed in the world beyond their bond. Within the dreamscape, nothing else did exist. It was all that mattered. It was all that would ever matter.

Letting the image wash over him, the man couldn't help but smile. A simple pure smile which radiated beyond the dreamscape. As he laid next to her, isolated only by a sleeping bag, he smiled. Within that dream, he knew that he would never be happier. No matter what happened, as long as he remembered the dream, he would remember what bliss felt like that.

However, it was not to last. The very moment his mind left the dreamscape, it was forgotten. The bliss was not to be remembered. Only the memory of a heavenly night of sleep remained.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

His eyes opened reluctantly, responding to the internal clock which screeched with reckless abandon in his noggin. Kyon had never been much of an alarm clock man, as he found awakening to the brutality of his habits was sufficient for his needs. Rather than set the alarm for the sake of awakening, it had become a bit of a game over the years. He set it to see if he could beat it to the morning.

Squinting shyly at the dull light which illuminated the room, he was reminded of the challenge that now stood before him. A meeting to discuss the coming Summer's programming was going to take place, and he would have to present. As the president of Taingawa Productions it should come naturally to prepare for such an event. But instead, the decision was made to sleep over with an old friend, thus neglecting all responsibility. Though the 'secret' trump card still remained entirely intact, it was just unprofessional not to take charge of this particular situation.

He moaned, completely disappointed with his own decision making. This was far from the first time he had chosen to reject all of his responsibilities for a night of relaxation. He had plenty of time to prepare for the presentation, an entire month in fact, but yet he never got around to actually doing it. He would have much rather sat all alone in his home, watching his programming until he was either too drunk to think or too depressed to stay awake.

Which was why, despite all the critical acclaim that had showered upon him as a president, he knew deep down that he was a failure. He was a failure in his professional life, and he was a failure as a human being. He was lazy, incompetent, and unimaginably successful.

'I shouldn't be like this. So why am I?'

Rolling his head to the right, he was greeted only by the sight of a sleeping angel.

No matter which way he looked at her, he saw only perfection. She still looked exactly as she did when they first met, if just a tad more developed and mature. The thought of someone within their early thirties managing to maintain the skin texture and physical appearance of their teenage selves was simply perplexing. It should be impossible.

Yet there she lay. A sleeping angel soaring within her dreams.

The soft breathing that dispersed softly from her mouth and into the air brought back his forgotten smile. He would have gladly watched the girl sleep for as long as time allowed, but like most things in life, it was cut short by the bitterness of reality.

With a crack of his neck and a stiffening of the legs, he emerged from the warmth of the sleeping bag and into the chill of the room. He briefly surveyed the room, completely flabbergasted by the thought that he could even sleep in the midst of such chaos. It was hard to believe that any member of the opposite sex would be willing to live in such conditions. It was even harder to believe that 'anyone' would be willing to live in it, or would be forced into such a cramped space.

'Welcome to the middle class.'

Being ever so careful not to step on any of Haruhi's cockroach companions, he galloped over to the bathroom, terrified of having the same exact experience he had last night. Just the thought of running into another roach family squirming across the bathroom floor was enough to make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up on end.

The bathroom door opened with a loud creak, enough to have awoken even the deepest of sleepers. Haruhi remained motionless. Still soaring within her dreamscape.

Having triumphed over the terror of the creaking door, Kyon entered the bathroom with a look of utter dread. The tiles which surrounded the shower were cracked, as if they had been punched or kicked on numerous occasions. Not too terribly surprising, considering the woman who lived there.

This would have been forgivable, if it wasn't for the fact that there was small trails of mold surrounding each and every tile within the shower. It became clear that the shower had never been cleaned, and if it had, years had passed since that time.

He stripped down with a great deal of reluctance, not wanting to make a little cozy home for all those that could be found crawling about. No amount of struggle could find a more appropriate location for his shirt and boxers, so after a few moments of deep speculation, Kyon finally came to the conclusion that the floor would be the most appropriate place to put his expelled garments. He briefly considered the top of the toilet, but after examining some unidentified green substance that coated the lid, the idea was entirely scrapped.

Standing entirely naked, with a pile of clothes piled behind his feet, he sighed and took a step within. As he soaked and bathed his body within the practically non-existent water pressure, the realization that his body wasn't at all what it used to be stung like a million bees. The belly, which was once a minimal bump on a perfectly healthy male figure, now protruded forward like a small hill. The gut was visible even when concealed by a shirt or suit, causing him occasional embarrassment while on the hunt for a date.

Here he was, an out-of-shape lazy man, and here Haruhi was, completely unaffected by time. If it wasn't for his money, he wouldn't deserve her. He wouldn't deserve anyone.

'No woman in their right mind would want to share their life with me. I mean look at this…'

He grabbed the fat that surrounded his mid-section.

'This is not desirable. Neither is a man who sits on his ass all day and barely uses his brain for anything short of flipping channels or reading a pre-planned speech. What is wrong with me?'

He stood motionless for a few minutes, completely floored from the realization that swept over him. Watching as the water flowed down his belly, a brief fantasy of all his excess fat washing down the drain made him chuckle somberly. It wasn't like it was a large belly, or even one that any individual besides himself would notice. But it was enough to make him feel inferior. Enough to ground him back in a depressive mood.

Turning the shower off with a thunk, he quickly reached over to grab a towel from the rack near his clothes. Drying off at lighting speed, he threw on his clothes with a tornado of motion. The sensation of wearing the same exact clothes that he had worn the previous evening was rather unpleasant, as his socks had a slight, but distinct, odor to them.

Turning towards the mirror with a disgruntled moan, he studied the wrinkles which were embedded around his eye sockets. As he stared with an intensity channeled by disappointment, grains of nostalgia stabbed at his heart. His face didn't always look this aged. He didn't always look in the mirror at night and wished there was a way to replace one's own skin.

A jolt of the shoulders later, the feelings were grounded deep within his gut, to be ignored until it was convenient to review them once again.

Quickly over viewing his physical appearance in the order of 'top to bottom', the unkempt hair that stuck up in ever imaginable direction became an alarmingly clear issue. No hair products, not even a comb, could be found within the bathroom cabinets. Nothing but clippers and deodorant were visible to the naked eye.

'That's odd. She must use at least something.'

With a shake of the head, Kyon sacrificed his futile search, and began combing his hair with the very fingers he was born with. The tactic came with medi-core results, as the hair's natural messy state was not so easily tamed. No matter how hard one would try, the hair wouldn't style without the assistance of at least some hair gel.

After several minutes of futile struggle, he entered back into the living room, only to find his goddess fully awoken from her slumber, and also far more scantily clad than he was comfortable with.

Stopping a loud screeching yelp with a sharp gulp of saliva. His vision pointed down to the floor, embarrassed by what he had briefly been able to treasure.

"Couldn't you at least put some clothes on," he mumbled while avoiding any eye contact.

Haruhi shuddered for a brief moment, apparently unaware that he was still within her premises. After recovering from the mild shock, her face turned from a melancholic frown to a warm and inviting smile.

"Why bother?" She asked the question sarcastically as she turned to him. "I'm just going to get naked again anyways."

He shrugged, figuring he might as well take in the eye candy if it was offered freely. "Well, it isn't like I can really complain."

Quickly retrieving his shoes with a frenzied pace, he inspected the inside of each to make sure there weren't any crunchy surprises that would be injured with the insertion of his foot. Luckily, both had remained completely roach free, and he quickly whipped them on with a sigh of relief.

Haruhi couldn't help but grin from ear to ear, regardless of the disappointment she felt deep inside. This may be the last time she ever sees him. In fact, despite his nonchalant attitude the night before, and his clear willingness to continue seeing her, she couldn't help but feel like this could be the end of it. It had happened before. A guy can act nice, but then leave without saying another word. Not even an email. She had experienced it enough times to know.

Yet, the smile remained intact. Just being within his presence at this point in time, was enough to keep her smiling. Just enough to get her to get through another several weeks alone.

Alone with only her fictional characters to keep her sane.

Alone with an entire collection of smut to wash the blues away.

Alone with only a fantasy of what being in love feels like.

To that very day, she had never experienced love. The closest she had ever come was with an old high school friend, who she thought she would never meet again. Nothing happened between them, though she secretly wished they had. In those days, she figured the SOS Brigade would always be together. That regardless of where their different paths lead, they would always have each other. That Yuki would always be sitting in the corner silently. That Kozumi would always be smiling, regardless of the situation. That Mikuru would continue coming back, even after all of the torments she had put her through.

No one returned. No one called. After high school, everything fell apart.

The SOS Brigade had become a routine part of her life. She was used to the bitter chill of isolation from her times in middle-school and junior high, and she knew that she would always be alone. There was no one in the world she could relate to, let alone spend time with.

Then Kyon came along, followed shortly by Yuki, Mikuru, and Kozumi. The center points of her life.

The man who had changed her life so many years ago was now standing right in front of her, a wildly successful president. A man to be admired.

Yet, no one but journalists and critics ever admired her. They admired her something as unremarkable as writing. A profession so completely ordinary that the young girl she once was would have cringed at the very thought of it.

The smile remained intact. A false state of bliss kindled with inevitable dread. As she sprinted for the refrigerator, desperately wanting to tear her face expression away from him long enough to expose the truth to herself.

The very moment she turned her back to him, a tear trinkled down her face, soon followed by a minature flood.

Opening the refrigirator door in her typical energetic fashion, she kept her voice restrained enough to give the illusion of normal speech.

"Just gonna have one this morning," Haruhi blurted. "Just one."

Kyon gazed at the figure before him as a lecher would at new found prey. If she was so willing to flaunt her sexuality at every chance she had, who was he to turn down the chance. Afterall, how frequently did one meet a thirty-something year old woman with the figure of a high school student. It was every man's fantasy come to life.

Lest he appear threatening, a blush and a look in the opposite direction ensued as she closed the refrigerator door.

"Y-You know," he stammered. "We really should exchange emails."

A spring entered into Haruhi's step as his words floated to her ear drums. Just the mere fact that he was taking initiative was enough to temporarily brush off the parnonia which pushed down upon her. A youthful enthusiasm was notable within her spirit, making her entire world seem just a few shades brighter than it had previously.

Stopping just a hair from Kyon's chest, she thrusted her hands on her hips with a sigh.

"Email? I just let you sleep over and drain my resources, and the furthest your willing to go is emails?"

Pushing her finger lightly against his forehead playfully.

"PENALTY," she screamed.

Kyon laughed at the gesture. The phrase carried with it many warm memories.

"I'll give you my cell and home phone, alright?"

"And your address?"

He gulped, imaginaing the sorts of unorthodox things the woman could do to his home if set into a rage. It was improper to make such harsh judgements of people he had just been reintroduced to, but the thought of this woman taking part in a little stint of vandalism was not something he would put past her. The thought of his widescreen television being bashed in with a baseball bat made him just a tad ill.

"What are you going to need that for?"

"You know…" she smiled cautiously. "… for when I stay over?"

Kyon grinned, having forgotten the little arrangement they had created for each other the night before. This was certainly going to give him something to look forward to.

"Do you have a piece of paper?"

Haruhi stumbled about in her boxes of 'notes' for a few moments before retrieving a minature notepad with pages barely large enough to write a three sentence paragraph. She ripped out three pages, the first of which tore in half due to a overflow of enthuasim.

"Thank you," Kyon said politely as he snatched the papers and pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket.

The information was scribbled with reckless abadon, as the ticking of Kyon's internal clock edged ever closer to his work schedule.

"Oh! And if you play any MMORPGs, right down your usernames too."

He chuckled, looking over at the charismatic child he knew she really was. "You play those things?"

"… No. But I'd be more than willing to join one. For the adventure of it."

'In other words, she does nothing constructive with her freetime.'

"Luckily, I don't have any." He handed the papers back to her. "So no need for you to be joinging anything you don't have to." Kyon's face contorted to a mocking frown, taunting her with a touch of cynacism. ""Aren't you a little old to be into those kinds of things?"

Her eyes remained unblinking for what felt like an eternity. The joke didn't hit the way it was supposed to. Instead, it triggered a much deeper train of thought, a corner of herself she hadn't dwelt upon for quite sometime.

Perhaps she was too old to be doing these sorts of things anymore. Other people fall in love and raise families by her age, and yet, all she had was fantasy. This wasn't because of some cruel twist of fate, but because she choose it to be so. Why did she continue?

"You're never too old to do the things you love," she responded.

Just mere words, probably without even the slightest resembelance of any particular profound feeling . Yet, they rang so true for him. They held with them a deeper meaning , something that he had forgotten after all of his years of adulthood. That there was a chance to turn back. There was a chance of being happy again.

'You're never too young to do the things you love, huh?'

Ripping out her own piece of paper from the notebook, she herself quickly scribbled down her own personal information. Emails and phone numbers were just mere means of communication, and yet, this was not something she had become accustomed to doing. Most men were bolting out of the door by this point in the dating process. It felt awkward giving away her personal information, even if it was such an obvious step in the process of acquaintanceship.

"I've gotta go," Kyon mumbled as he crumbled Haruhi's note in his pocket. "Thank you for the hospitality."

"You better call me tonight."

"First thing when I get home."

"Really?"

"Really."

Victory stimulated an unsettling smile from her face.

"Score!" It was the only statement that seemed to perfectly encapsulate her overflowingly bubbly mood. There were a great deal of different emotions conflicting with one another, but at that particular moment, she felt happy. The pain had ebbed away, instead making way for a sense of joy and anticipation that was not unlike that she had written of.

As an author, she had written of such feelings before, but never once had she experienced them for herself. In truth, she didn't know what love felt like. She knew what desire felt like. How a longing for someone could tear you up from the inside out. That need to connect to someone well out of your own reach. One emotion that had constantly slipped past her reach, however, was the feeling of love. The feeling of being loved by someone else, and loving them in return.

Without a second thought, she leapt at the chance which had been present to her for the last several hours. Timing was everything when it came to the expression of one's intent, she knew this more than anything else. She always had terrible timing.

This time she wouldn't ruin it. This time, she knew for sure, that things would be okay for her.

She strolled forth, not letting the overbearing reluctance weigh her down. If she didn't make it clear now, there may never be another chance.

Coming face to face with her target, she kisses him on the cheek. Her heart raced in a euphoric fashion, making her entire body tingle with the weight of the experience.

"Wah-what was that?" His response was not at all what she had wanted. This was bad. This was very bad. An expression of shock riddled his face. She had seen this face numerous times before. It wasn't an expression of acceptance.

"Incentive."

"Incentive?"

"To call me tonight."

"……"

'Say something! Anything.'

They stood in silence for what felt like a lifetime, neither parties entirely willing to make the next step. Haruhi stood frozen, afraid she had made a horrible miscalculation. Maybe he wasn't interested in her at all. Maybe this was the end of the whole affair.

"I'm sorry," she apologized. "Did I catch you off guard there?"

"A little." He smiled shyly, feeling sillier and sillier by the moment. "I-I better get to work."

"Have a good day?" There was a venom boiling in the way she presented the question. It was a subtle attack. Deep within her, the desire to slap the man was becoming a bit too much to bear. On the other hand of things, she didn't want to lose the chance she had. If she had been merely overreacting, being so obvious in her discomfort would be the wrong course of action. Even if her conscience was telling her to use her legs for everything they were worth.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, and gazed deeply into her eyes.

"After that, how can I have anything but?"

With that, he left her with a kiss on her right cheek. It was a simple gesture, but it was enough to erase all previous preconceptions. The breath had been taken from her lungs.

She stared, completely frozen. She had never known Kyon to be a romantic, let alone being able to respond to a girl in such a sweet and nonchalant fashion. This was completely unlike him. She knew that she had changed over the years, that years of being isolated and rejected had changed her from being the girl he remembered. Though, she had always expected for him to remain entirely the same.

Time changes all things. They were both adults. She may have been immature for her age, but she had still grown well out of her shell as the leader of the SOS Brigade. That was another life.

A life she constantly wished to have back.

The door slammed. He had left her. Alone once again.

Alone. Happy. Ecstatic. Excited. Blissful. Content. Positive.

The positivity which reigned over her presence caused her to break free of her stoic pose and dance wildly about the room.

"Yaaaaahhhooooooooo!"

She hadn't felt so happy in ages.

It brought back the girl she once knew. The girl that had remained, for the most part, buried underneath all of the melancholy.

"Alright," she sighed happily. "Now that that's out of the way, I do believe it's time to get back to work."

Out of a brown box labeled 'Research Matierals', there laid a file. A file of her secret project that she dared not to tell to anyone. It was, beyond a shadown of a doubt, her most cherished work.

She pulled out the file, ready to once again delve deep within her inner well of creativity and contine to dream up her story.

The file flipped open with but a movement of her fingers. The characters were still in the rough stages of development, and since this was her first manga in devour, the designs still had a very amateurish look to them.

Brushing off numerous documents from the top of her computer desk, she placed the open file down in front of her computer, taking a seat directly in front of them. Studying the contents intently, she waited for some new ingenious creative thoughts to hit her.

The first sketch visible within the file was that of two high school students. Not a day older than fifteen. They both sat alone at a table, waiting for the other members of their club to come. The sketch didn't depict much emotion on the part of the characters, though there was something that had always stung about the image. Just the thought of this young girl, with nothing to lose, letting everything she wants slip entirely through her fingers.

It was an image that, until this very day, had very little correlation to her own reality. It was merely just a work of fiction up until now. It was something she had wished to come true, secretly deep down within herself.

The title "God Knows: I Lost My Music" gleamed brilliantly in black ink at the top of the drawing. She knew it was just a work of fiction. That the characters really weren't related to her in anyway. She had drawn from her own personal life before in her writings, but to have it all actually unfold in the same manner as she had written was an extraordinary concidence.

"Now that's just uncanny," she mumbled as she drew two ribbons onto her main lead's hair. "The guy kind of looks like him too…" In a brief flurry of erasing and sketching, she extended the male lead's hair. "…that's just freaky."

She knew how the story went. Two lost souls from high school find themselves again fifteen years later, thus rekindling their secret desire for one another. It was a classic love story, done in the typical 'melodramtic' fashion of the genre.

For the story to come so close to unfolding reality, however, was strange.

"… Funny how things work out." With that, she erased the bows and the extended hair from her drawing. It was a story afterall. No need to mix reality with what was clearly fantasy.

"How weird."

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_**I'm sorry for the uber late update! Trust me, you have no idea how long it took me to write this little tidbit here alone. **_

_**I hope you guys enjoy this update though. And with this update, I figured I might as well make this 'Author's Notes' section as sappy and sentimental as I possibly can. Afterall, it isn't everyday that I actually end up updating a story, now is it?**_

_**First off, I want to thank my readers. Seriously, you guys have been the best. Ever since I started this fan-fic, you've given me some of the best 'honest' feedback I could ever ask for. I have a strange sort of passion for this story, even if I have a weird way of showing it… so really, knowing that there are people out there who are actually reading my writing is like a dream come true. **_

_**And with that, please keep posting your 'Honest to Suzumiya' thoughts. Tell me what you think about the story and my writing. A writer never grows without feedback. Don't hold any punches. **_

_**Another note to take is that… well… I write in a very free-flow fashion. There's bound to be some spelling and grammar mistakes I didn't pick up while writing this piece, so I would appreciate anybody pointing out any obvious errors. I know I should probably be able to spot them out myself, but whenever I finish a chapter I'm just so overwhelmed with the accomplishment of the thing that I don't always find them all.**_

_**That being said, until next time, I hope you enjoy this chapter. It's certainly a lot shorter than I originally intended, but that also means that I've got a lot of great material for the next chapter.**_

_**Thanks again. This really has been an amazing ride so far.**_

_**I hope you enjoy my crap. And no… I don't think my writing is 'actually' crap. It's just a fun little slogan I made for myself. It reflects my immature 'nonchalant' nature.**_


	5. A Day In The Life

Being a lost carefree spirit came with its advantages. A carefree spirit paid very little mind to the negative aspects of their existence. Quite the contrary, they strived to find bliss in every moment of their lives. Whether that bliss were to grant itself upon them was entirely besides the point. Bliss was merely a concept created from the synergy of the human spirit with a desirable environment. However, to be a free spirit meant to live the way of the free spirit.

Kyon pondered the concept numerous times as he considered Suzumiya Haruhi. It was because of her, and only because of her, that he had even considered Kyon as something more than just a nickname. Now, whenever he would greet an individual, he would ask them to call him by his nickname. The nickname Haruhi had cemented into his soul.

Suzumiya Haruhi was a free spirit. A woman to be admired and treasured.

'How does she do it?'

No matter how hard he had tried to adopt the philosophy of just going with the flow of life, he couldn't possibly bare it. He was never the type to charge headfirst without thinking about the consequences or wondering what lay around the next corner. The business of television required a strong charismatic leader, and yet he was unable to take a risk without first pondering it over with his assistant.

"Oh honey, stop that! We're in public."

Kyon stopped as he heard the screech in the distance. A young attractive couple was playfully bantering as they strolled towards him, entirely oblivious to the world around them.

"So because we're in public means I should stop cherishing you?"

The girl blushed as she gently ran her finger down his nose.

"It isn't that I mind. It's just that I don't want anyone else to get jealous."

"Gotcha. So from now on, we'll wait until we get home for me to tell you that you're the most beautiful girl in the world and that I love you more and more as each day goes by."

They stopped together as she joined her arm with his.

"Do you really mean that?"

"My dearest Aimi-chan, of course I do." The boy smiled, obviously relishing his clear knack for crafting sweet romantic nothings.

"You mean so much to me, that I… I'm afraid of losing you sometimes."

He caressed her cheek passionately, suddenly shifting emotional gears from playful to amorously serious.

"You should never be afraid of losing me. I'll always be here."

"I know… you say that now… but…"

Kyon began to feel awkward eavesdropping on the ongoing conversation, but his legs glued him to the spot, as if some greater power urged him on to see the unfolding drama through to its completion.

"Listen honey, and I really do mean this. I am going to try my best to be with you for as long as I can. Because no goal is worth completing if I have no one there to share it with me. No joy is worth embracing if I can't share it with you."

The whole presentation felt like an overplayed scene from a failed soap opera. Despite the obvious sincerity of the two actors performing, the whole thing just felt several steps beyond absurd.

He was beginning to find it hard to believe that there were people in reality who existed as these two did. As if life were their stage and they were free to play whichever parts they wished.

"Hibiki…" she exhaled as tears began streaming down her face.

"Aimi…"

They kissed before either could say another word, sealing their bond with an action far more meaningful than any words.

'Thank god I skipped breakfast.'

To any passerby, the public display of affection was not only a nauseating sight to behold, but the sugary sweet flavor it left in one's mouth was enough to sink anyone's spirit. Young love, while a wonderful and beautiful thing to some, is but a mere reminder of everything that had been passed up in the youth of others.

Aimi blushed as their mouths separated, creating a wet popping sound as the lips returned to their normal state of lonesomeness.

"Y-Y-You," she stuttered in admiration. "You didn't call me Aimi-chan."

"I believe we're past the stage of formalities, don't you?"

"Of course." She pressed herself against his chest, listening in to the beat of his heart. "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you say that. You're such a gentlemen that… I never thought you would just call me by my first name." Aimi's breathing quickened as all of her worries melted into a pool of romantic ecstasy. "Hibiki, I'm going to cry. You don't mind if I use your shirt do you?"

"Of course not."

"Good," she sniffled. "I'm not sure I can control it at this point." Using the front side of his dark blue shirt as a tissue, the tears were dutifully dried. "You just have no idea what you do to me when you say things like this. I feel like my soul's on fire."

Placing his hand upon her delicate head as if it were a precious piece of china, Hibiki sighed. "Isn't that the feeling one should feel when they're in love?"

"I suppose," she moaned softly while still attempting to wipe away her tears within his chest. "I mean, I do more than suppose. I know. It's just kind of odd, you know?"

"Come on. I'll take you home."

"I wish I could just stay with you all day long."

"You will someday. We'll be able to spend the rest of our lives together."

"Won't that be the day."

With that, the two retreated down the corner, disappearing from Kyon's life entirely. That he should run into such a display while making his way to work was one thing, seeing such a display while he was contemplating the possibility of an ongoing relationship was entirely another. It was almost as if the both of them were there just to remind him of how little love he has shared over the years. That he had never been able to express feelings on that level was dispiriting.

During high school, when every opportunity had revealed itself, he had still managed to pass over it. Even if it hadn't been with Haruhi, he could have found someone. Someone to share the remainder of his youth with, someone to share everything that disturbed or enlightened him.

Progressing from self-searching introspective to a slow steady walk, Kyon figured that no one would miss him at the office. No one would even care so much as to take a second glance as he walked into the door. Saying no to the boss was something that many of his executives and most of their colleagues were not accustomed to doing. Saying no to the president was not unlike cursing the lord's name in vain right before the pearly gates of heaven. It hardly ever happened within his presence.

Those who did question his tactics, however, were immediately promoted to higher positions. Within the business world, there is nothing more valuable than varying opinions ringing gently within the ear during each and every decision. A slip-up would not be traumatic when it came to the station's overall success. It would just be a disappointment to everyone that wished to not only see Tanigawa become a financial success, but also an outlet for new artistic talent.

While the profits blossomed, the originality and creativity wilted. With the money they had at this point, everyone was on the outlook for the next big thing.

Nothing would make more money than a revolution. Something few, if any, television stations had managed to achieve. They had the resources to go through with it. To invest in talent and creativity.

It was a true shame that no one was ever willing to go through with such plans. They just ended up being locked away, never to be looked at or inspected again. Revolutionary programming had the nasty tendency of being both unsuccessful and unprofitable, or so it seemed to be within Japan's current televised market.

Playing it safe was the path most tread, and for good reason. It was reliable. The chances of destroying the financial security of the company and everyone that worked within it were far less within the cover of fluff programming. Fluff for the masses that demanded it.

The blessing and the curse of security had washed over him; the enlightened young man who strolled happily down the street on such a chilly winter morning. Life was safe when you could hide from what you truly desire, he had always thought to himself. If you can just be happy with what you get, rather than lusting for that which is unattainable, happiness would follow suit. You would be rewarded for your loyalty to life's rules and your own sense of personal modesty, and that would be the end of it. There was no reason to feel pain, because no one could hurt you when you're buried within the safety of your security.

His old philosophy, and everything that came with it, had been rewritten the very moment he stepped within her apartment. Even with the roaches and the lack of even the tiniest shred of decency, the evening had enchanted him in a way that made the winter weather seem far less harsh. It had even made the upcoming challenges of the day seem like treats rather than chores. Something to be worshipped rather than groaned at.

Haruhi was impressed with him. For once in his life, he was important to somebody. He was someone to be looked up to, and for more reasons than just the yen that filled his pockets. They had known each other, and deep down inside, there were aspects of their character that had refused to change. Refused to be struck down by the real world which surrounded them.

He seemed like an important person to her, and she was of much greater importance than she had yet to realize. A sleeping god whose powers appeared to be dormant.

Kyon shuddered, thinking of all of the times he had to deal with Haruhi's depressions. The occasional threat of universal destruction was not something every man had to deal with on a day to day basis.

Sometimes he would sit alone at night, and stare up at his ceiling. To think that he had actually been within the presence of a being that had not only allegedly created the very world he stood in today, but had seen proof that she had god-like powers. The question of whether Suzumiya had truly created the universe was truly troubling, but he had always viewed her as but a girl. A beautifully eccentric girl that had repelled him just as much as she had attracted him. Her outlooks were not those of your average sane individual. They were entirely unique.

They were not the outlooks of a creator being. Even if she had accidentally created the universe as we know it now, the idea of her being able to mold reality without even realizing it seemed to stretch credibility. It would stretch credibility if he hadn't seen it for himself. If he hadn't witnessed all of it unfold right before his very eyes.

That life had felt like a dream for so long. Where every day there was a possibility of annihilation just from a girl's mood swing. Where he had an obligation to stay by her side, for fear of not being able to wake up in the morning.

Freedom from such a life seemed like such a blessing at first, but it only lead him to the sad conclusion that real life was not at all what he wanted it to be. He wanted his life to be that of excitement. The thrill of being within Haruhi's world, and seeing the world as he had always wished it to be, was nothing short of earth shattering.

Ever since he was a boy, he didn't wish to let go of the notion that the world really functioned like a television show or comic. When the boy developed into a young man, he began to realize that the world would never allow such insanity to break through the barrier of dullness that everyone was forced to endure. That was how things were meant to be. The only excitement that was allowed to happen was within the realms of the imagination.

Haruhi's world was not that of the dull reality he lived in. Her world was the true world buried within the dullness. Once he had seen the world through her eyes, he could never shake it.

So he laid in bed staring up at the ceiling, wondering if he would ever catch a glimpse at her world once again. To reunite himself with his youthful spirit, and wander within the realm of aliens, time travelers, and espers once again.

Only one word could properly express everything he was feeling. From the chance encounter at the convenience store to the playful banter flying back and forth at her home.

He was in love. It was still within the early stages of birth, not fully developed, but nonetheless potent.

The promise of becoming reacquainted with a universe he had since disconnected from was invigorating. Even if things could never return to how they were back in the days when the SOS Brigade were like family, just being able to walk around the outskirts of absurdity once again would make him the happiest he had ever been.

Back then, he was naïve enough to figure that things would always remain as they were. That life would always be that interesting. That at every turn, some amazing new discovery would occur. That experiencing another dimension, traveling through time, and participating in a super powered game of baseball were not things normal men can honestly say that they had gone through.

Now he knew to hold on. To love every moment he got within the realm of Suzumiya Haruhi.

He would never lose it again. He couldn't afford to lose it again.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Eyebrows furrowing in concentration while a passionately poised pencil scratched against a blank piece of paper, Haruhi couldn't help but find every attempt at cracking her magnum opus to be futile. No matter which direction she wrote from, the thing failed to come across naturally. The whole thing felt forced, like something any amateur writer could have written in an overnight cram session.

God Knows was her dream. Elements of the story slowly unveiled themselves as a diary of autobiographical longing, making the project even more important than it had been previously. In a way, it was a pure unadulterated expression of where she currently found herself in life and how she got there. Only the names and many of the events were altered to tell herself and others that it was a pure work of fiction.

Coming to the realization that she was writing about herself made the process of writing suddenly laborious and unfulfilling.

Doing herself justice was entirely different from giving an imaginary person life. There was no way to approach the work from a carefree perspective. She had to craft and polish every sentence until they flowed as a genuine masterpiece of words.

Nothing came to mind immediately as she scratched away at the page. Everything had to come out organically before they could be melded into what she desired.

She stopped for a moment, letting out a deep sigh. Even after an entire hour of attempting to work, her natural writer's spark had yet to emerge.

"Just focus on what you want to write," she mumbled to herself. "That's all that matters. Write what you want. Write what you're passionate about. Come on, Haruhi. Come on."

With that, she threw aside her current labor with a crumple and a flick of the wrist, making room for a fresh new sheet of paper.

She labeled it accordingly with her current creative position.

_**Rough Character Dialogue (Not The Real Deal Yet!!)**_

"Alright Suzumiya-sama. Let her rip!"

With a slight giggle and a sudden swell of motivation, the pencil danced across the paper with renewed vigor.

_**Female Lead: Oh honey, stop that! We're in public. Stupid moron!**_

_**Male Lead: So because we're in public means I should stop cherishing you?**_

_**Female Lead: It isn't that I mind. It's just that I don't want anyone else to get jealous. You are my prize, after all.**_

_**Male Lead: Gotcha. So from now on, we'll wait until we get home for me to tell you that you're the most beautiful girl in the world and that I love you more and more as each day goes by.**_

_**Female Lead: Do you really mean that?**_

_**Male Lead: My dearest Haruhi-chan, of course I do.**_

"Crap." She quickly erased the error and replaced it with the proper name.

_**Male Lead: My dearest Aimi-chan, of course I do.**_

_**Female Lead: You mean so much to me, that I… I'm afraid of losing you sometimes.**_

_**Male Lead: You should never be afraid of losing me. I'll always be here.**_

_**Female Lead: I know… you say that now… but…**_

_**Male Lead: Listen honey, and I really do mean this. I am going to try my best to be with you for as long as I can. Because no goal is worth completing if I have no one there to share it with me. No joy is worth embracing if I can't share it with you.**_

_**Female Lead: Kyon…**_

"Goddamnit." She glared in total frustration at yet another convenient typo. "Okay fine, if you want it that way."

_**Suzumiya Haruhi: Why don't you just send a freakin' email before you call. It isn't like you're too busy at your super high class job to at least drop a few words before you call tonight. I mean, look at me! I'm on the verge of an emotional breakdown here!**_

_**Kyon: I can do one better. Why don't you just move in with me.**_

"Chance."

_**Suzumiya Haruhi: Oh Kyon! You're so daring.**_

_**Kyon: Believe me, you have no idea how daring I can be.**_

_**Suzumiya Haruhi: You can talk the talk, no doubt about it. But can you walk the walk?**_

_**Kyon: I am overwhelmed with passion.**_

_**Suzumiya Haruhi: I am overwhelmed with passion too. Take me now!**_

_**Kyon: I shall take you now.**_

_**Suzumiya Haruhi: I shall be taken.**_

"Okkkkaaaay," she suppressed a laugh before becoming entirely disgusted with herself. "I think that's enough wish fulfillment for one day."

Rubbing her forehead with increased agitation, the writer Haruhi finally dismissed her abomination without a second thought.

"More garbage to add to the garbage pile."

Falling gracefully back into her chair, the massaging of her forehead continued without any end in sight. To stimulate thought was a trying ordeal, one which created many unnecessary habits. Every time her fingers traced across the practically invisibles blemishes in her skin, it felt as if she were tapping into an unlimited databank of knowledge that was inaccessible otherwise. A bad habit that triggered something deeper within her.

Numerous other techniques had been implemented in times of dire inspiration. The circling of the fingers around one another appeared to be the most fruitful, but was also the most time consuming. Such silly little things were the tools of this particular artist, and when applied, usually helped to at least keep enthusiasm peaked.

Today, even after going through every variation of head massage she had practiced, nothing ignited a longing to finish her current endeavors.

'No one is going to read it. Why bother pouring your heart and soul into something that will only touch the most elitist of bookworms?'

Letting the pressure channel from her forehead down to the arms of the chair, she traced her fingers bluntly across its cold metal bars.

'I could always just do something else. Get a job someplace, work six days a week, and slowly watch as everything that could have possibly made me unique crumbles into a paste of… paste.'

She smirked. 'Can't even be poetic in my own head right now.'

The lids of her eyes closed in about her vision, suffocating all perceivable light. Within her heart she knew that writing was her main passion. To create people who inhabited the worlds of your own creation was not something she could leave behind. It was something that she would never be able to let go. To be a professional writer was to live in a fantasy land of her own creation and being paid for the pleasure. Even if the payoff wasn't big, it was something she had to do.

If she could touch only one person with her writing, it would be worth it. If that one person so happened to be the same woman who had created the words in the first place, than that would be the tale of her life. To echo and die within the grand scheme of life.

Though it didn't matter. As long as she was happy, that was all that mattered. Life had no greater importance than the continued happiness of the individual that perceived it. Discomfort and labor were only means of obtaining said happiness. Or so she had told herself time and time again.

Finding deeper meaning within life had evaded her. At age fifteen, she struggled to keep her life and herself unique from any other. Now she struggled to understand why it never had meaning.

She yawned, stretching herself out on the metallic beast she wished to call a chair.

"Anime beer time."

**________________________________________________________________________**

Channel Tanigawa didn't radiate like so many otaku dreamt it would. The building was old, the channel was old, and everything they knew about Channel Tanigawa was a sudden storm of lucky programming choices.

The building stood there silently, having all of the appeal of a grey industrial complex. The logo which had now become recognized nationwide was plastered against the front wall in faded red, looking more like an out of commission stop sign than the signature of quality entertainment.

Remodeling of the offices was planned sometime within the next month, but restructuring of any sort was always put off until the very last minute. Many employees didn't wish to see the remains of the old Tanigawa leave so soon. Despite the money, despite the amount of media attention the channel received, they wanted to at least have the place continue feeling like home.

It was an old-fashioned building without a single touch of modern renovation, and many wished to keep it that way.

The president knew that someday they would have to clean it all up, but if his workers were happy with the conditions they were given, he would hold on to the old place for as long as the media would let him. The Tanigawa Headquarters had already become a target for national lampooning, including an infamous comic strip which had become plastered to every other cubicle within the offices.

The comic featured 'The Homeless President' standing outside the front gates of Tanigawa Headquarters begging for change. The irony being that he had an entire suitcase with yen literally spilling out of it into the street corner. The illustration added to the effect, as the building behind him was drawn as merely a trashcan with a busted neon sign attached to it.

The young folks found it hysterical, even going so far as to label it 'the only truthful media to be released about Taingawa'. The crotchety old men failed to see the humor, mumbling to themselves that 'young people have no sense of history'. It was the general consensus, however, that the building could use a good fix-up, whether it was next month or next year.

Kyon stood before the company that he had helped flourish, looking only a few steps above where he had left. With all of the money and resources spent on building his own glamorous home, he was beginning to wish that everyone would just bunker down and slop a new set of paint over the place. It wasn't even up to the standards of the less successful studios.

'Just another thing to make us infamous within the entertainment industry'.

He sighed, making his way to the double doors with a great deal of struggle. It was going to be a day like any other. He would make a speech, the executives would have to go along with his 'supposed' plans whether they liked it or not, and he would spend the rest of his day finding non-productive things to do on the Internet while everyone else ran frantically around the office like decapitated chickens. Very rarely did he find himself with anything constructive to do other than attend to the decision making when it came to programming and the financial aspects of his position.

Luckily, there had always been someone to take care of all that when push came to shove.

He could hear the doors creak open as he made his entrance into the main lobby, a spacious room housing many of the companies most prized memorabilia. An award for best channel hung proudly on the left wall, even if it was from thirty years prior. Props and rare memorabilia from the station's classic programming sat in clear glass cases, resting on metal pedestals that rose from the floor like islands within the sea of raven black tile. It was certainly the most modern room in the entire complex, though it lacked any brand of grand sensibility. It had all of the charm of a doctor's office unpleasantly mixed with a museum of old trinkets most cared very little about.. There was nothing exciting or warming about the place, and Kyon found whenever he entered the main hall, he couldn't help but feel at least a tiny string of depression tug at his heart.

'We're going to fix this one of these days,' he always thought to himself. 'Maybe I could just bribe everyone into stopping the whining about the past. Nothing says embrace the present quite like a small fortune given for consideration's sake.'

Within the dead center of all the confusion the room conveyed, stood a statue of the station's proudest achievement. The main couple from the smash hit Lost Love posed elegantly as they embraced each other in a kiss that broke the channel's record for most viewers during a single program. Which would have been an amazing statement if any of the studio's prior work had been groundbreaking achievements, which none of them had been. The show was met with much scorn and animosity in the early stages of development, but it was now being worshipped as the shot in the arm that Taingawa had desperately reached for after ten years of a terrifying ratings plummet. The statue itself represented the crowning achievement of a station most presumed dead.

For once, Kyon actually stopped to study the detailing that went into the art. There was no expense spared in the near exact replication of the show's finale, as even the scar gracing dear Victoria's face was lavished over in exquisite detail. The looks of ecstasy and contentment, the likes of which only seemed possible within the exaggerated realms of animation, made Kyon cringe whenever he laid eyes on it. It was exactly the sort of melodramatic fluff that should have been stepped on and torn apart by critics.

Yet there it was, a multi-thousand dollar statue erected for a show that should have sunk to the very bottom of the ratings barrel.

A young gangly man, twenty-three years old if his birth date were to be trusted, came racing over to the quiet introspective President currently lost within his own train of self-pity. The boy's long black bangs bounced with every step he took, his thick black-rimmed glasses making him not the least bit appealing to look at. His thin little body appeared to have not a single strand of muscle, giving him the appearance of a walking talking skeleton.

Not even bothering to catch his president's attention, the young man simply placed himself by his side, staring awkwardly at the statue with him.

"If you need some note cards for the presentation," he rambled in a cold mechanical tone. "I scratched some up last night for you."

"Good man," Kyon responded while retaining his fascination with the art standing before him. "I know this is going to be a pain in the ass, but could you run over the main points for me, Fumio-san?"

Reaching into the front pocket of his stained brown over shirt, Fumio pulled out a thick stack of index cards with a large array of notes placed on the front of each. Kyon turned his attention to him, not looking forward to flipping through yet another step by step 'read along' meeting.

"Today you'll be talking to the execs about the studios future plans with KyoAni for the Summer lineup."

"KyoAni?"

"Kyoto Animation, for short." Fumio quickly flipped through the cards, making sure everything was in the exact order he had planned. "It's going to be hell convincing the board of our decision. They were really firm about this deal."

"And what exactly is our resolution?"

Kyon quivered with the sheer amount of detail Fumio always seemed to place on each and every note card. As his assistant, he never did have to go to the lengths that he did to ensure absolute perfection. He could settle for just being mediocre, but he had always refused to slack off.

Without him, Taingawa Productions wouldn't have flourished into the constant profit machine it had become.

"We would love to work with KyoAni in the future, but as of this moment, their current animation block does not fit our needs."

"How so?"

"The series they are currently developing is too smart and ambitious for the audience we're aiming for."

Fumio stated every single point with a blank expression and blunt precision. The situation processed through his mind like a math equation, with only one possible solution. That which would be most beneficial to rising profits.

"…Okay. So how do you suggest I tackle this? They were really looking forward to producing this."

Kyon tried to remain as calm as he could. Fumio had never let him down before, but he was a bit disappointed with the outcome of this particular venture. He had read the script to Dark Skies numerous times, and thought it would be the perfect way to transition Tanigawa to start producing more philosophically inclined programming.

"You're the President. I leave the convincing of the board members completely up to you. Either way you slice it, they'll end up going with whatever decision you make."

Exhaling a sigh of disappointment, Kyon figured there was very little point in thinking over the matter any further.

"What's the alternative to producing Death Skies?"

"Hold that thought. I forgot something back at my cubicle."

Fumio sprinted away from Kyon, leaving him alone with this thoughts to eat away at him. For just this once, he wish he had the backbone to take a real risk. From all of the projects he had worked on in the past, Fumio had never been wrong. Knowing where to find some quick cash, Fumio could often be found making bets with fellow coworkers on which competitor programs were going to do the best. His predictions had, miraculously, never been proven wrong.

After several minutes of waiting, and having been swept right back into a deflating state of art appreciation, Kyon was tapped gently on the shoulder. Fumio returned with a leather suitcase. Forcing the case into Kyon's chest as if programmed to do so, Fumio continued directly where he had left off.

"KyoAni is currently in the early stages of developing a new shonen series. It is a long ways from production, but I'm certain they can pull themselves together to make the Summer line-up."

Placing the suitcase on the ground, Kyon began to fiddle with its locks while absorbing every word that spilled from Fumio's lips.

"What is this shonen fighting show called?"

"Untitled. Still in the early stages of production. But based on some of the early art sketches we've been shown, I'm predicting a dynamite hit."

The case opened silently, revealing a treasure trove of concept art and rough drafts. One glossy picture stood out beyond all the rest, clearly meant to be a big selling point for any potential channels wishing to pick the series up.

"I see your point," Kyon lamented as he picked the shimmering piece of artwork from the top of the pile. An attractive blue-haired schoolgirl lay seductively across the long shaft of what appeared to be a robot's cannon, even going so far as to place her hand to the side of the erect mass to convey an implied stroking motion. Her bust had also popped two of the three buttons on her shirt, thus revealing not only an exposed chest, but also the hot pink bridge of her bra.

'Here we go again.'

"Have you looked over the script," Kyon asked.

"Typical shonen garbage. Have very little doubts about this one."

Entirely unaffected by the circumstances, Fumio simply stood silently and waited obediently while his boss let it all sink in.

"So, we're tossing out an ambitious project for a shonen mecha show?"

"Shonen 'slash' harem with mecha, to be more exact. It'll make lots of money. Dark Skies will not."

Being the king of nothing but trash was not an awarding experience. Just because something wasn't going to make money doesn't mean that it should be thrown off the map entirely. Even if Dark Skies wasn't an immediate success, some of the fans of the station would most likely remember it as something worth embracing. A different taste presented by a channel that usually had none.

Envisioning the main hero flying triumphantly through the skies during the show's final climax, Kyon shook his head in complete reservation. It was the project he had believed in from the very beginning, but his concern wasn't with what was going to be good. As president, it was about the future of the company. They couldn't afford any slip up at this point, even if it were a high brow ambitious one.

"You've never let me down before… but…" He sighed. "Our viewership isn't looking for quality, are they?"

"We brought them Mii-chan. They're clearly not looking for anything intellectual."

"Don't you think they'll get sick of that eventually? These people need to get something of quality every once and a while."

"Mii-chan is quality," Fumio retorted, though his voice echoed no inflection. "Colorful visuals, fantastic production values, so on and so forth."

"Marketability over quality storytelling then."

"Precisely."

"Where did you even get these production designs anyways?"

"They're just duplicates. During the KyoAni trip, they gave you these. I was in charge of filing everything you had picked up from the studio."

"Oh yeah," Kyon grumbled as he snapped the locks back into place. He got up from the floor, hoping to switch the conversation to more casual territory. "I remember that trip. Whatever happened to that Yui girl you were so fond?"

During their trip to scout out new potential studios and production companies, Kyon and Fumio had Kyoto Animation high up on their priority list. Despite some arguments about the studio's sink in 'quality' over the last decade, they had never failed to appeal to their market. While Kyon took care of bussiness with the heads of the animation department, Fumio kept himself distracted by striking up a conversation with the receptionist at the Kyoto Animation headquarters.

She was not a stunner, but Fumio had become quite taken by her. She had been the first girl he ever built up the nerve to ask out on a date, which had been one of his proudest accomplishments. For weeks, all Kyon would be asked was how to impress a girl without resorting to poetry.

For three weeks, Kyon had never heard of the matter again.

"She is out of the picture now," he snapped quietly. "I suggest we get back to the bussiness at hand."

"Fumio-san…"

"Please don't call me that. My name is Fumio." From the blank expression erupted a slight upturning of the lips, in what seemed to be a replication of an ordinary smile. "You don't need to be so polite. I'm just here to help."

"About your 'helping.' I need to talk to you after the meeting."

Taken slightly aback, Fumio's fabricated smile downgraded to a genuine frown of agitation. "What for?"

"I know I haven't been giving you the proper respect you deserve."

"I don't want the respect, Kyon. I love the work."

They had this discussion numerous times over the past year. Fumio was stubborn with his insistence that Kyon never pay him in, what Fumio believed to be, an excess of money. Despite Kyon's best efforts, Fumio never listened to reason. He viewed each offer as a sinful representation of everything that was wrong with the world's economy.

"Let me help you," Kyon insisted. "You know I can do it."

"I don't need it."

"You're broke! It isn't fair for me to just let you sit on the sidelines and watch as you fiddle away to nothing!"

He had sat by for too long. Fumio's living conditions were some of the worst he had ever seen. So wretched was the buildup of garbage and so bad was the insect infestation that, in fact, he had yet to see a rival until he witnessed the crushed Doritos lying about the floor in Haruhi's apartment.

"You pay me under the table," Fumio nodded to himself. "I'm fine."

"No. No, you're not. I've tried time and time again to give you more, but you just keep on rejecting it."

Fumio's gaze intensified. Whether he was furious, or simply sympathizing with someone who couldn't possibly understand his complexities, was completely up to Kyon to decide. His face was unreadable.

"I do not want your money, Kyon. I don't need any of that."

"You want your own life someday right?"

Another nod. "I'm living my own life right now."

"Then let me help you with… whatever you're doing with it."

"No."

Of all of the things for a human being to do, to turn down an offer of money from an incredibly 'well-to-do' man was simply preposterous in the eyes of the one offering the deal. Any sensible man would realise that they deserved what was being offered to them, and take it without question. Fumio simply stood his ground, wishing not to have any part of it.

"I don't need a father," Fumio stated. "I'm a grown man. Continue paying me as you have been. I'll be content with it."

"Please just listen," Kyon said as he gazed up at the Mii-chan clock attached to the ceiling. "I-I've gotta go. We're going to talk about this later."

Grabbing the suitcase and running with everything his dwindling spirit could muster, he heard a voice ring after him.

"Kyon, I'm here to help you. Please don't insult me by treating me like a child."

He stopped dead in his tracks, the dwindling spirit now becoming but a weak particle when compared to the onslaught of guilt which swarmed it. For longer than he would ever be willing to admit, he had exploited Fumio for his brilliant mind. He had Fumio do everything for him, and he still did use Fumio. The least he could do is show him the proper respect he deserves by giving him a reasonable portion of the profits.

Kyon had offered him half of his earnings on one occasion. Told him that he could make the excuse that it was private business between two very close friends, and that it was no one's concern where his earnings went. It wasn't as if they didn't know that Fumio was one of the great cogs in the money machine. Though, how much he truly accomplished was only between him and the president who commanded him.

Once Kyon finally followed his conscience and respected him for the prodigy that he was, Fumio felt as if he were being mistreated.

"I don't see you as a child," Kyon bellowed as he continued his run. "I see you as a genius!"

The receptionist, who had been attempting to listen in on their conversation with little success, wondered if the President had suddenly lost his mind. She watched as he flung himself wildly into the next hall, practically ripping a door open as he went.

"Ignore him," Fumio laughed. "He's just going nuts again."

"This sort of thing happen often?"

"Quite." He bowed politely in her direction. "I'll take my leave."

Fumio left, leaving the hall to remain in serene peace and quiet.

"I'm beginning to think you've both lost your marbles," she muttered under her breath.

**____________________________________________________________________**

_The Empire will be closing in on your signal. You've got to get out of here!_

Victoria stood triumphantly before her followers, all of them willing to lay down their lives for her. The war may have ravaged seventy-five percent of the galaxy, but a few Salvation based planets still remained to fight off the remaining invaders.

_If this is to be our last hours, I want the slaughter to mean something. To each and every one of you. Our deaths will mean something within the grand scheme of the universe. If the cloth of space becomes stained with blood, let the blood be spilt for a noble cause._

'I know the guy who greenlit this show,' Haruhi grinned as she watched her favorite space opera unfold upon her computer screen. 'Isn't that awesome?'

_I experienced a great love once. A love that changed the universe. The stream of time shifted just for us, or so I had thought. _

The story never failed to touch Haruhi. Due to the brutality of war, Princess Victoria would never experience her love again. He was murdered ruthlessly by the Empire, for attempting to stand against their War on the Spirit. To kill the spirit would be to kill the remaining hope of man, making the civilians of the galaxy free to be conquered.

It had been the only romantic story that left any sort of affect on her. The lasting impression had changed her. Every time she were to dwell upon the story, she would feel something stir within her. A deep desire that she had denied for almost her entire life.

She remembered, upon living through the series finale for the first time, she actually cried. Tears had never been shed on her part for something as trivial as a televison show.

Yet, when Princess Victoria fell into the arms of her lover Claus, she could feel the stirrings of emotion well up within her. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, the silly space opera was moving her more than anything ever had.

_Claus. Claus?!_

'Oh great, here comes the flashback.'

Haruhi's eyes twitched, resisting against the raw intensity of the scene.

_Claus, you're bleeding. Claus? Claus?!_

_He isn't breathing. No! No, you can't be. You can't be… dead._

Haruhi could only watch as Princess Victoria stroked the limp lifeless head of her dead love. He fell lifelessly into her arms, his face leaving no imprint of the pain he no doubt encountered at the edge of a lazer blast.

_I never told you before. I never told you that I adored you. I never told you just how much you truly meant to me. I never told you that I loved you. _

The tears came. The beauty and sorrow of the moment sweeping her away just as it had the very first time.

_I never told you I even cared. We just accepted each other… as we were. You knew all along, but I was never able to tell you. To express it. I never really loved you, did I?_

The sobs of the viewer seemed to perfectly synch with those of the character onscreen. Princess Victoria wailed as Haruhi sobbed uncontroably.

_I never loved you as you should have been loved. Kissing, knowing, longing… but never loving. I should have done it, after that kiss. I should have told you how much I loved you._

Chug chug chug. One beer was never enough for something of this calibur.

_So let me say it now. I-I-I love you!_

Dropping the empty beer to the floor, Suzumiya Haruhi whimpered as the screen turned black and the final credits rolled. Within the course of just one episode, she had experienced both the beginning and the end of a relationship that had never fully flourished. A kiss more magical than any. A kiss that, through the magical capabilites of the princess, had managed to save an entire civilization from perishing.

It was the power of love that had saved the universe.

But it could not save him.

"D-d-damn it. W-w-w-when did I become s-s-s-so w-weak."

The bright white letters scrolled through the darkness of the screen, the signature Lost Love theme flowing at its most downbeat pace.

The thought which stung more than the death of Claus himself, was the same as it had been before.

She had never been kissed. Not like that.

She had dreamed of it once. The dream had become but a mere memory, but within it, she could still feel the lips of her partner pressing into hers. That had never left her. The sensation of the kiss. A kiss that meant you were loved.

"Aaagggh," she snarled. "Now I'm just depressed again."

For as long as the credits rolled, she left the room in serene peace and quiet.

"I think I've lost my damn marbles again…"

'… and while they're lost, I might as well bug him.'

**_________________________________________________**

It was the shortest meeting Kyon had ever had to endure. Everyone involved was so petrified to say a single syllable about the programming switch that the whole endeavor turned out to be quite disappointing.

He was expecting a fight, and all he got was a pat on the back and a congratulations.

His computer was his only true friend in the office. No one bothered to disturb him unless it was a dire emergency, so he was mostly left to surf around the Internet. Fumio always took care of the dirty work far before he was ever able to sit down.

'I really need to decorate this place.'

There was not a single inviting artifact within his work place. All of his work had been neatly placed within his desk, to prevent any sort of clutter. The desk lay barren, with the exception of a coke can and a computer. The walls were painted white, the same exact color as all the other walls within the building.

It was all plain. Nothing attractive about it.

_BEE-DEE-DOOP _

The automatic email alert startled him out of his boredom, punishment for accidentally setting the speakers to full volume.

Hovering the mouse cursor over the small grey speaker icon so as to silence his system, Kyon double clicked on the alert, sending him directly to his private email.

An email was highlighted in red, emphasizing it over the long laundry list of spam that had somehow sneaked through his filter.

_**From: Haruhiisgod**_

_**Title: I'm booooorrreeeedddd!**_

The contents of the message reaked of Haruhi. Reading each sentence slowly, so as to savor each and every word, Kyon imagined Haruhi's cute authoritative voice blasting in his ears.

_**Blleeeeeehhh! I'm sooo bored right now! Been trying to write for a while now, but nothing good has come yet. Nothing good at all. It's all garbage. **_

_**Trying to branch out. Can't really do it. Stumbling over my own feet over and over again. Nothing good is coming out of it. I start to think whether it's better for me to stick with sci-fi. Clearly can't write romance.**_

_**Have been meaning to draw a manga for a while now. Don't think I can do it. Doesn't mean I won't do it, since that is the fun of writing in the first place. You let things be the way they are.**_

_**If you're reading this, call me! You need to help relieve my boredom!**_

'At least she's being adorable in her bluntness.'

A loud series of tapping noises came overflowing out of Kyon's office, as he typed out his message with deliberate speed. If he didn't send it in time, she might leave her computer and choose to do something more constructive, thus leaving him stuck scrolling listlessly through the Net.

_**You're not the only one whose bored at the moment. I've got absolutely nothing to do, since my assistant is on an incredible mission to 'do everything I should be doing'. Which he does on a 24 hour basis anyways, but now he's doing it to 'apparently' prove a point to me. **_

_**Listen, the creative process is a very complicated thing. I'm sure that if you keep at it, you'll write something really great. Have a little more confidence in yourself! It isn't like you're going to write something terrible if you put your mind to it. You're an award winner, for pete's sake! I think you'd have to try really hard to write something that is 'actually' bad. **_

_**That being said, if you want any advice, feel free to ask me for any. I would love to read whatever you're developing right now. I'm sure it's great stuff.**_

_**Unfortunately, I can't call you right at the moment. Typing makes me look like I'm actually achieving something, so I can keep on emailing you for as long as I want. **_

_**First thing I'll do when I get home is pick up the phone and dial your number. How about that?**_

_Sent!_

Now all there was to do was wait. He desperately needed to talk to someone other than Fumio. Someone to help get his mind off of things.

That somebody was Haruhi. She fit the bill perfectly.

_BEE-BEE-DOOP!_

"I thought I muted the fucking thing," Kyon yelped with yet another shock penetrating his drums.

He pressed to mute it. He double-clicked to read it.

_**You better call! If you don't, I'll find your house and break into it. Don't ask me how. I'll just find a way. I'm sure there's probably some sort of window or door that you forgot to lock. I could probably kick something open real easily.**_

_**I don't share my writing with anybody. Not until it's done. That's my writer's code. You take a peek at it, and you're dead.**_

_**If I ever feel like it, which I won't, I will ask you.**_

_**Can't wait to get the call. :) Don't disappoint me. **_

_**P.S. You mean to tell me that you have a slave? That's what you're making it sound like.**_

_Tippy tippy type type type_

_**As accurate as the term 'slave' might seem, it really doesn't describe his situation in the slightest. He was my assistant, and we ended up realizing that he was much better at running the business than I was. I've offered him promotion after promotion, but he always turns them down. He keeps on telling me that he doesn't want the spotlight, which I find rather strange. He doesn't even want any extra money than what I usually give him under the table.**_

He paused, wondering if the boldness he was about to display would benefit their connection. Not wanting to take any unnecessary chances with a potential partner, Kyon pondered his offer several times over before finally continuing.

_**Listen, this is going to sound extremely forward, but if you're really that bored, you should just drop by tonight. There's a ton of really nice liquor in the cellar, and I can imagine you'll probably love my big screen ultra high-def setup more than anything else. **_

_Sigh_

_**I'd really like to see you tonight.**_

'Should I? Should I say it?'

_**Thinking about your smile is the only thing keeping me sane today.**_

'I shouldn't send it. It's corny. Don't send it. Don't send it. Don't send it. SEND IT.'

'_Sent!'_

________________________________________________________________________

"Thinking about your smile…"

She grinned, suddenly becoming far too self-conscious of her apparently enlightening smile. She had never thought of a feature like that being all that defining up until the morning.

Flattery was a gift rarely bestowed upon her, and to receive it from him made it more precious than any compliment she had ever received.

"… is the only thing keeping me sane today."

Reading it aloud for the second time, out of sheer disbelief, the statement tickled at her heart. The throbbing within her chest made it difficult to concentrate on typing, but she made quick work of her keyboard even despite her disability.

_Tippy tippy type type type_

_**You can bet your ass I'll be there! What time?**_

_**So how big is this super big screen super high-def setup? Are we talking about a home theatre experience? **_

_**So, I'm spending the night, right?**_

_**P.S. Your eyes are (insert poetic imagery here) like a (insert mushy gushy metaphor here). **_

_**P.S.S. You do have amazing eyes. No joke.**_

_Sent!_

Cracking her neck from side to side, she moved her cursor in large circular path across the screen, attemping to relieve her pounding heart of its unbeatable rhythm.

_PA-PAW-POWW!_

"Wow, that was quick."

_click click_

_**Well, you'll just have to wait and see, won't you? I'll call you when I get home, so make sure you're ready to get picked up. Until then, I'll be counting down the minutes until I can see you again.**_

_**I think I better get back to work. I think people are beginning to suspect that I'm screwing around in here. This really can't be good for my image.**_

_**Keep on smiling.**_

"And now we wait," Haruhi moaned as she took another sip of beer. "We wait for the one who lusts after our teeth."

She knew it was just playful banter, and his words most likely retained far less meaning than he had poured into them. Her smile remained strong as she gazed up at her ceiling, noticing a particularly bad case of cobwebs in the right upper corner.

If he really did love her smile that much, she would try and be as cheerful as possible. To be the sort of girl that he no doubt desired. Someone strong and independent, but with a sprakling smile and a great sense of humor. Someone he could care for.

Slumping her over stimulated body down into her chair, the eyelids began to grow rather heavy. Aching to break into some form of fantasy before he arrived.

'But before that…"

Chug chug chug

"Alright dream world," she laughed at the sheer stupidity of her girlish nature. "Lay a real sappy one on me."

________________________________________________________________________

_You have so much potential. It is roaring inside you like a raging ocean._

_You will wake up to it soon. You will see. You are in control._

_You will wake up._

_**_________________________________________________________________**_

_**AUTHOR'S CORNER (YAAAAAY!)**_

**_CORRECTION NOTES 1.1 (don't read these unless you want to be bored): There was a major error in formatting when I first uploaded this story, making sections damn near impossible to decipher. With that being said, I'm glad I caught the mistake tonight before I went to sleep. For some reason, has a nasty tendency of screwing up story formatting sometimes. Also fixed all grammar and spelling errors that were reported from readers. Fixed 'IMing' slip up, since they are emailing and not IMing. Thanks guys! Keep reporting boo-boos, and from here on in, I'll try my best to fix them._**

_**It is really something when you manage to make your way through the majority of a chapter in one sitting. It rarely ever happens to me, but in this case, I just couldn't leave this chapter alone. **_

_**This is, easily, my favorite chapter so far. I got to play around with a lot of stuff this time, and I think I'm getting a bit more comfortable with writing this in general. I'm trying to learn to relax when it comes to fan-fiction. Not to take it too seriously, but also to take it seriously enough that the final product doesn't completely suck. **_

_**For those of you wondering, there is an actual story to this fan-fic. Though it may not seem like it right now, it isn't all just cute HaruhixKyon moments. I'm not sure how the actual plot is going to fare once it goes into full effect, but if it's anywhere near as fun as writing this chapter was, I am so totally there!**_

_**As always, leave your 'honest to suzumiya' opinions. I don't believe in the buttering up of opinions. Just state what you think can be improved, and what you liked and disliked. Of course, showering praise is also nice, but only if it's rightfully deserved.**_

_**HARUHI SAYS: "Leave honest reviews or there will be a penalty!"**_

_**PREVIEW OF NEXT CHAPTER: Who is that girl? Lavender hair? Bookworm? Great with guitar solos? My waifu? It's a mystery. Not gonna tell you guys. It's classified information.**_

_**SPECIAL THANKS:**__**Just got a proofreader. So from now on, all of my grammar and spelling mistakes are his fault. LOL, seriously though, thanks man. I'm too lazy to go through my own work. I would much rather play video games and pick up on girls (the latter is a lie, but it sounds a lot better than 'read Kare Kano').**_

_**YOU SHOULD CHECK OUT: Last Exile. It's an amazing anime. Lots of subtle drama and great characters. The animation is pretty stunning too. And the new Star Trek film! You should see that before it leaves theatres. Practically made me cry from fanboy joy, nyoro! Especially when like, Spock, he like, was a total badass, and was like, awesome, and Kirk was like so awesome, and then like the ending was like BOOM and the credits were like ZAAAAPPP! And then I cried.**_

_**I hope you enjoy my crap! (DISCLAIMER: Am joking!)**_


	6. A Dream?

Tidal waves crashed ferociously into a thick foam of sea water, making for a delightful visual display for any onlookers fortunate to roam the beach at this time of night. The chaotic symphony generated as the waves curled inwards and outwards from the mouth of the ocean was enough to make the poor girl sitting alone upon the beach shore wonder how it all came to be. Such a wondrous demonstration of power couldn't have possibly arose from anything less than a perfect being. The possibility of a god was not something that she often dwelt upon, but within this dream, the questions were impossible to resist.

Who had created the waves if there was no one? How did she exist if there was nothing? How could the world exist from nothing?

The sky lay dormant above the constant movement of the waves, shadowing everything beneath it with a bleak darkness. The mood of the landscape felt enchanted, as if the very environment had been manipulated to match the emotions of the woman who viewed them. Her conscience had contorted the warmth initially present along the shore, draining it into the bitter cold which gusted upon her in abrupt cycles.

Her short brown hair, which had grown a considerable amount since she nestled herself into the sand, flowed wildly with ever thrust of the wind. She sat naked before the tide, letting out an occasional shiver before the tremendous breath of the sky. Bundling her legs close to her chest in an endeavor to shield her torso from the cruel chill of nature, Suzumiya Haruhi found herself completely alone.

From within the drink of her imagination, another emerged to ease her desolation. The thunderous clapping of the sea's curls soothed into a tranquil drift as a shape gradually emerged from the surface. The organism's face creased the top of the salt water surrounding it, acquainting itself within the establishment of the dreamscape with a chipper snicker. Beads of water fell from the being's long alluring ponytail, which slid elegantly into the somber blue abyss below.

As the creature's shapely form continued floating skyward, Haruhi perceived a sentiment of familiarity with every inch of flesh that bore itself before her. It was, in every way, the same as the body she now inhabited. It carried with it every trait of her own being, with the exception of hair length.

The soles of its feet finally stopped upon the waters surface, standing triumphantly as a naked representation of perfection, graced with the damp tears of the ocean. A charismatic charm encompassed the newly birthed being, its grin resonating from a deeply felt craving to embrace every idiosyncrasy of the world.

Both the girl that sat upon the beach and the woman which arose from the water were two parts of the same whole. They formed the essence of Suzumiya Haruhi. One embodying her melancholic half, the other embodying her every passion.

The Melancholic transiently formed eye contact with the Passionate, before hastily averting her eyes down to the sand. It was bewildering, knowing that even within a dream, she could never escape from herself.

Strutting across the water's surface with an air of confidence applicable for Haruhi's Passionate, she skipped across the expanse with ease. The Melancholic couldn't help but notice that she was beginning to resemble a teen idol, a position she hoped never to see herself in. The Passionate made its way upon the shore of the beach, her foot steps leaving a damp imprint upon the sand it tenderly bore down upon. Standing ominously to on the outskirts of the Melancholic's personal space, whose eyes were only to the waves, the Passionate instilled herself awkwardly into the situation.

"Well, we're certainly the happy one today."

No retort formed from the Melancholic, whose head found itself firmly placed within the palm of her right hand.

"Being difficult," the Passionate laughed. "How typical. You know, it is funny to point it out now, but I remember a time when you were almost completely in control. What a drag that was, huh?"

"What do you want?"

The Passionate sat beside the other, ignoring the Melancholic's shunning question.

"I am here," she cleared her throat. "Simply to annoy you. Or perhaps give you some advice."

"I don't need advice right now. I was trying to watch the ocean before you screwed with it."

The Melancholic forbid any glance upon anything outside of her beloved wave less sea. With a slight click of her fingers, the motion of the ocean began once again. The unbounded surges of the waves soothed her soul, briefly motivating her to consciously sweep away the overbearing presence of the Passionate.

"We are both going to change soon," the Passionate continued with developing vigor. "After tonight, nothing will ever be the same. It is rather exciting, isn't it?"

"What are you going on about?"

"Well," she retorted rapturously. "Just think of it! If all goes according to plan, you'll finally have your man by your side. In fact, your incidence on becoming reunited with your beloved Kyon has actually begun to rub off on me too." She lifted her hands in utter defeat. "I preferred when you were just obsessed with writing, but I suppose I could get used to this."

The harmonious voice of the sea could only be heard as the Melancholic pondered her plight. Being bewitched by one individual couldn't be healthy. A relationship founded entirely upon infatuation would not be a pleasant affair.

"I want to be with him," she admitted bluntly. "I really do."

"Then just reach out and grab him! He clearly wants you."

The world never functioned so purely. The Melancholic acquainted herself within such reality exceedingly more than the rest of her kin. She knew that if every person could simply reach out and embrace someone with no consequence, everyone within the entire world would be blissfully happy. The truth, as discerned once all of Haruhi's being was wound together as a dynamic unit, was that love was never enough. The cosmos did not derive itself entirely upon the connections between couples. The road to happiness was far more elaborate than that.

"Don't get too excited," spoke the Melancholic. "We have our own life to live, remember? I don't need him."

"Then why do you, or rather we, close our eyes in hopes of seeing him in our dreams?"

It was a romantic endeavor that the entity Haruhi had luxuriated in. To close her eyes, and find herself within a fantasyland, where the universe finally seemed to make sense to her.

"It would have been pleasant, but I'm not a romantic."

"This is all resolved then!" The Passionate scooted herself closer to her. "You will be pursuing him. What else is there to think over?"

"There is always a degree of uncertainty in the unknown."

"And that's what makes it exciting," she bellowed. "You're never quite sure what you're going to get."

"You're telling me to just leap into it? Don't bother thinking about the consequences of actions, or whether or not it will bring me any closer to happiness in the long run. Just jump in without thinking."

"Life is too short to be worrying about the little things, little one. Though, I suppose having a short life is something we need not worry about."

"What are you mumbling about?"

The Melancholic's eyes had finally drifted from the rage of the sea, and gazed dully upon the figure of her colleague.

"Well, just think about it. Our body has barely aged at all. It seems to have set itself at exactly the age we wish to stay at. Coincidence?"

Her eyes moved again to the sea. There was no reasoning with such reckless speculation.

"I was fortunate."

"I suppose you could say that. But, thankfully, there is something much juicer going on here, don't you think?"

"I don't."

Tracing her finger through the sand like an artist would trace their brush across a canvas, the Passionate made a small frowning face with just two dots and an upturned line.

"You see," she pointed. "This is you. This has always been you. Why we haven't had the option of voting you off the island yet is completely beyond me."

"You realize that everything you say is obviously something I already know, since otherwise, I wouldn't be talking to myself about it."

"Not necessarily true. You see, the unique thing about you and me is that there is a great deal of complexity within our human brain. As in, more than is normal." Smoothing out the frown face with the palm of her hand, the Passionate began sketching a diagram into the sand. "Your subconscious may very well be aware of elements of yourself that your conscious self is completely oblivious to."

Removing her tracing finger with a look of satisfaction, the Passionate looked down upon a crudely designed sketch of a brain. Within this brain, two women lived. One was signified with a ponytail, the other was not.

The Melancholic took no note of the simplistic drawing.

"And I'm listening to a dream for what reason?"

"Because this dream is a bit of yourself, moron!" The Passionate got to it's feet, making wild hand gestures in an attempt of receiving her audience. "Reaching out and trying to grab your attention. Telling you exactly what may or may not be going on."

"You aren't telling me anything of value."

"That would ruin the fun. All… of… it. All of the fun!"

"So, all knowing one, if you have no advice for me, would you please go flitter away somewhere else."

The waves became louder and more deranged in nature, as if some wild man had suddenly taken the muffles off of a horde of wild blood thirsty dogs.

"He is only the tip of the iceberg. Regardless, he is the beginnings of what will lead you down the path. Whether you survive will be determined on how well you think things through."

The words were clearly heard through the overbearing symphonies of the waves.

"You will wake up to it soon."

The sound was becoming deafening, feeling as if a long sharp nail was slowly cutting away at her eardrum.

"You have to wake up."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

BAM BAM BAM!

Haruhi woke from her unpleasant nightmare, trying her best to obtain a visual grasp of her surroundings. Through her eyes, the world seemed muddled and unfocused, but the muddle quickly cleared into a glorious vision of everything she wished she could leave behind.

BAM BAM BAM!

"You do realize people sleep here, right?!"

She rubbed her eyes, wondering who would possibly come knocking at her door at such an early hour. The rent had been paid on time, so the prospect of the landlord coming by for a brief yet firm reminder was entirely out of the question.

Slowly crawling from her chair in a very sloth like manner, the momentum of her movement felt a sudden jolt as another loud barrage of knocks came banging at her door.

"At least let me throw something on! … Unless of course you have some sort of dark intention, in which case, I can guarantee you that these walls are very thin, and any fun imagined will never come to pass."

BAM BAM BAM!

Putting on an abandoned pair of black jeans and her jacket from the previous night with all of the motivation of a snail, the knocking began again.

Opening the door with a force so strong that the knocker feared it opening right off of its hinges, the drowsy girl blinked at the present that stood before her.

"… Oh."

Kyon smiled, enjoying the awkwardness of the moment.

"I was going to sweep you off your feet, but with that sort of a greeting, maybe I should just make you walk."

**---------------------------------------------------------------------------**

**Writer's Corner:**

**I have a proposition for you guys. It isn't going to sound pleasant, but this is pretty much the only way I can really see a full-time fan-fiction working for me at this point. **

**This chapter was supposed to be thirty pages long. No joke. Why didn't I write thirty pages? **

**Reasons: Homework, beautiful girlfriend whom I adore, job hunting, ect.**

**I love this story, and I want to give it as much justice as I possibly can. I want to complete it. But here's probably what's going to end up happening. **

**Once every two weeks (a promise to myself) I'll upload a new chapter. The chapters are probably going to be short but sweet… but that's really the only way I can see doing it right now. **

**With that being said, I hope you still enjoy this story… though I'm not going to be in perfectionist mode anymore. I'm going to try my best with the limited amount of time that I have though. It's always fun to write for Haruhi and Kyon, so I plan to keep on going.**

**((The promise that I made in the last chapter? Well, I lied. Though I was earnest at the time))**


	7. Faith and Love

_"Are you kidding me? Love is a disease! Almost everyone seems to be getting it, and there's no cure in sight. I swear, the day they find a serum to cure love will be the same exact day the world finds peace eternal."_

_-An excerpt from God Knows, I Lost Music (written by Suzumiya Haruhi)_

Loafing into his office chair as if his spine had suddenly evaporated, an overwhelming lack of importance continued to smother Tanigawa's president. His endeavors were worthless and the rewards for completing such menial tasks far outbalanced the genuine effort put in.

Fumio always found a way to do it all for him. No effort was required.

The walls of his fictitious duties commenced closing in around him. The overwhelming sense of claustrophobia built, making Kyon's yearning spirit thump desperately against his breast. His longing escalated with every wasted minute.

There was someplace he knew he would rather be. Somewhere he could flourish.

His introspection drifted to the woman he had left alone. The hours that crept by without her presence took on a gravity he could not entirely comprehend. For once, he had something outside of work that was worth his attention.

Steamy fantasies overtook him, as he pictured her in the most deviant of situations.

They were taking a steaming hot shower while lathering his back with soap. She rubbed herself against him, her skin grinding against his own. He soon found himself aroused with lust. He returned the favor by washing her back, receiving a sultry sigh for his efforts. They gently caressed one another, leading to a prolonged session of love making as the water rushed down their naked forms.

He shook himself out of such deluded thoughts, for fear that they might pervert his judgment. He strived to envision the true Haruhi. The Haruhi he knew, and not the fantastical seductress who had previously invaded his peace of mind.

A daydream of her resting alone on the floor arose. A shimmering smile traced her face. She had lost her muse, but had acquired a new one. A muse for embracing life, rather than escaping it. It was a smile that encompassed all of her negative and positive attributes.

Her deviousness. Her assertive attitude. Her warped sense of reality.

The smile represented everything that made her beautiful.

Fumio entered the office with a stern look upon his face, as if to intentionally awaken Kyon from his brilliant fabrications.

"The financial reports are done," Fumio said. "We checked with some advertisers."

"Another marketing blitz?"

"Guess who."

Kyon rubbed his eyes wearily as a colossal index of major corporations came reverberating through his cranium. "How many zeroes are going to be at the end of the paycheck?"

"We got Bandai," Fumio stated with a slight tweak in his voice. "Bandai is interested in merchandising."

Kyon picked up the lone pencil which laid isolated on the table. Twisting it diagonally between his index finger and his thumb, a thought struck him.

"Wait a minute," Kyon groaned as he continued to run the numbers through his mind. "Why would Bandai be talking to us about this? Shouldn't this be something for the marketing guys at KyoAni to deal with?"

"I'm currently having contacts with the marketing division at Kyoto Animation. One of the girls called up Bandai. We're in business."

The rapid influx of new information made Kyon feel even more confined. The numbers did nothing but disturb him and his sloth-like state.

"They haven't signed a contract yet," Fumio continued. "But that will change when we have some finished scripts."

"Fumio, what would you think of a man who has fallen in love with a childhood friend he barely knows anymore?"

Despite Kyon's best efforts, he could not eliminate the effigy of Suzumiya Haruhi from his mind. He needed to tell someone about her. He desperately needed someone to understand him.

Fumio stared at him with an innuendo of surprise. "You want a real answer?"

"Yeah."

"How long have you been seeing her?"

Kyon gently scored his eyebrows, hoping to evade the question. "We were really close in high school."

"How long?"

"Close to twenty four hours now."

Fumio stood motionless. His eyes appeared to be deliberately appraising Kyon's every gesture and facial tick. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, he simply blinked.

"You truly like this girl?"

Kyon grinned oafishly. "Well... I don't know."

"Yes or no?"

He should have assumed that Fumio would be so cold. He began to wonder if he was even capable of love.

"Yeah."

Fumio fell silent.

"Just forget it," Kyon infringed.

He gradually rose from his chair, though the action had no true purpose. He had no place to go. It was his duty to carry on the burden at hand. What meaningful chores he could accomplish had yet to reveal themselves.

He desperately desired an escape.

"What's her name?"

She only had the most beautiful name in the world. "Suzumiya Haruhi."

"Suzumiya Haruhi?"

Fumio's verbalization abruptly shifted from total apathy to sudden curiosity. While the subtle changes in his delivery and posture would be disregarded by most, Kyon knew that the name had captured his interest.

"Suzumiya Haruhi," Kyon repeated.

"Suzuimya Haruhi? The Suzumiya Haruhi? As in the author?"

Kyon slumped back down into his chair. "You've read her books?"

Fumio seated himself on the opposite side of Kyon's desk, conveying an acceleration that Kyon had never seen before. An adolescent energy suddenly took Fumio over, as he clutched the sides of the chair energetically.

"She's written some of the most underrated pieces of literature I've ever encountered," Fumio ranted. "The fact that she isn't even famous makes her even more alluring." It was just as if his thoughts were spewing from his mouth without a single censor. "The woman is simply fascinating. Not to mention the fact that her figure is to die for. How anyone can manage to pull that young girl look off at her age and get away with it, I have no idea."

Fumio stilly restrained himself with a blink. Kyon couldn't help but wonder whether a fly had landed on his off switch. "You were childhood friends with Suzumiya?"

"I guess you could say that."

"That's impressive."

"Trust me, there was nothing impressive about it at the time."

Fumio bubbled with questions, even as he attempted to subdue his evident enthusiasm. "What was she like?"

"Bitchy."

"Bitchy?"

"Bitchy and bossy."

"That's disappointing."

Kyon's eyebrows tilted curiously. "Why?"

"I always pictured her as the silent contemplative type."

"Your type, you mean?"

Fumio shrugged with guilt. "I guess."

It was outside of Kyon's social abilities to approach such an awkward chat unscathed. He always felt a tad uncouth when it came to discussing women with this assistant. No matter what he said, feelings were disturbed somewhere along the way.

This wasn't the first time he had snatched up a girl which his poor assistant had a fascination with. Though most of these supposed relationships never lasted more than a date or two, Kyon still worried. He always worried what his underling might think of him.

The old him would have found a creative way to get out of such a mess. The old him always had some clever way of stepping around such circumstances.

Ever since he had received his high school diploma, he felt his social skills slowly decline. There was never any reason to polish them. As long as he was able to speak clearly and present himself in a decent manner, there was no reason to spend too much time conversing.

Fumio's feelings were shimmering through his expression, which seemed to be lost somewhere between a smirk and a blush.

"You're jealous, huh?"

Fumio straightened himself casually. "No."

Kyon chuckled. "You're too easy to read."

"Am I?"

Fumio returned to his customary persona. His posture seemed to echo an irritated tone, though this could only be inferred.

"For pete's sake," Kyon said in frustration. "It was just a joke."

"Oh. I know."

"Then why do you always have to be like this?"

His eyes stared into Kyon's coldly. "Like what?"

"Anytime you show any emotion outside of the line of duty, it's like your programming seems to automatically dispose of it. It's like talking to a bi-polar robot."

Fumio adjusted his sleeves.

"The truth is that I do become a little agitated," Fumio confessed blandly. "I do get agitated when beautiful women practically throw themselves at you. I get agitated when they don't even bother to look at me. I get agitated when I have to spend the night imagining how great it must be to touch someone. I ge-"

"Women do not throw themselves at me," Kyon interrupted.

"They do."

Kyon remained still. He briefly contemplated if it would be alright to tell him, whether disclosing his secret would make him any less of a man.

"T-They may," Kyon stuttered. "But it isn't like I do anything with them."

"Bullshit."

He gulped as the words gestated in his throat. "They try to... but I, uhhhh, I don't let them."

Fumio stayed silent as he waited for Kyon to finish.

"I'm a virgin," Kyon let out casually. "Of sorts."

Fumio blinked. "Truly?"

"Oh yeah."

As Kyon mentally orchestrated a piece of lengthy exposition, Fumio continued to study him silently. At first, he didn't believe Kyon's reveal. Most of the women that he had gone home with were not of a classy variety, and he couldn't imagine any man fending them off once within a private vicinity. It was hard to swallow that Kyon had such integrity.

After several moments, Fumio distinguished a particular expression upon Kyon's face.

Fumio had seen the face before.

It was the face that longed.

It was the face Fumio struggled to hide more than any.

"Sorry," Fumio said. "Didn't mean to get personal."

"Same here."

Kyon continued to struggle with the concept. It wasn't a state to be ashamed of, yet every time he dwelled on it, he couldn't help but feel inadequate. There was no woman that he felt a deep enough connection with to make such an action worthwhile.

Even when snared into the bowels of lust, he felt guilt. He felt as if he were cheating on a life partner that wasn't there.

As the girls stripped and teased, there was only one person on his mind. As he inched closer and closer to intercourse, it was if the eyes of Suzumiya Haruhi were watching.

They both sat in silence for a moment. Kyon never wanted his secret to get out. It wasn't anything to be ashamed of, yet he felt guilty for some reason. A man his age having never been intimate with someone of the opposite gender did seem a little odd.

"You know," Kyon smiled with some effort. "I'm not all that different from you. I've never had a serious relationship or anything of the like. I've never been close with a woman before."

"Suzumiya. Are you going out with her?"

The suggestion made Kyon's skin leap. Just yesterday, he would have thought the concept of dating completely out of the realm of possibility. However, that was only because none of the women he knew measured up to his standards. The standards which had been previously warped by a teenage girl with a god complex.

"I suppose you could say that," Kyon said.

"Planning to make it to forty-eight hours?"

Kyon chuckled at the dry delivery of Fumio's statement. "Actually, we have a date later tonight."

"Does she have anything planned for the next few hours?"

Kyon thought for a moment. He had nothing left to do. All of his duties as the supposed head of Tanigawa Productions had been completely finished. There was no reason for him to loaf about when there was an opportunity for more personal time with Haruhi.

"Do you think that is such a good idea?"

"You aren't accomplishing anything here," Fumio stated. "I'm sure she won't mind."

"I would like to," Kyon nodded to himself. "But doesn't that seem a little desperate?"

Fumio shook his head. "There's a fine line between romantic and desperate."

Kyon rose from his chair, glad to have some excuse to leave the restrictions of his office. "And there's always the chance that I might be a little of both."

Making his way to the door, he stopped as his hand rested on the door knob.

"Fumio, thanks. For everything."

"Don't thank me. Go lose your virginity."

* * *

"I don't believe it," Haruhi laughed. "You mean to tell me that he took care of everything?"

Haruhi sat comfortably in her computer chair, twirling around in circles as she spoke. "You know, this could quite possibly be the best set-up in the history of set-ups?" She let her feet drag across the floor, bringing the spinning to a sudden stop. "You're super rich, and you never have to work. You just have your lackeys do everything for you."

"It may sound great to you," Kyon sighed. "But I have to live with the guilt. I'm using him."

Haruhi looked at him with a confused stare. "Nah-ah. You aren't using him. He's asking you to use him. Hell, he's practically asking you to abuse him! The fact that you're just using him rather than abusing him shows that you have an excellent moral character."

He laid on the floor as her feet dangled mere inches away from his face. Unlike his own, Haruhi's had no odor.

"So," Kyon grumbled. "Do you want to make your way over now? Or would you rather hang out here for a bit?"

"Are you kidding me." Haruhi pointed around the room. "Do you think I want to stay in roachville any longer?"

"Good point." He stretched forward, quickly twisting his torso into an upright position. "What happened to your little friends anyways? I haven't seen any of them."

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen them around today." Haruhi quickly leapt from her chair and forcefully slipped her feet into her shoes. She was clearly excited to be leaving her apartment behind. "I haven't spotted any of them for quite a while."

He got to his feet, trying to stretch out all of the muscles which he had failed to exert.

'God, I need some exercise.'

"I'm ready," Haruhi announced.

"Alright."

Kyon opened the door, letting in the freezing winter air into the previously stuffy apartment. He stepped outside, being reminded of where he stood that morning. He was in the same position as before, except now he was leaving with the girl.

"Ahem," Haruhi pseudo-cleared her throat.

Kyon turned around, to see Haruhi's arms crossed around her chest.

"What?"

Haruhi grinned. "Didn't you promise that you were going to carry me?"

'I didn't mean this kind of exercise.'

Haruhi had been forceful in her demands before, but Kyon had yet to adjust to her using such tactics for flirtatious gains. It was a new kind of game for him.

"You want to ride on my back?"

She shook her head. "Bridal style."

That could be a problem. Even though Haruhi was as light as a feather, carrying anyone down a flight of stairs was dangerous. He didn't want the nearly paper thin floor to collapse with their combined weight.

He stretched his arms forward, prepared for the worst.

Backing up slowly, Haruhi observed her surroundings, making sure there was nothing in the way of her flight path.

'Oh dear god... she isn't?!'

He was barely able to catch his breath as she came rushing towards him. Kyon noted her near Olympian form before grunting from the sudden weight which came down upon his arms.

"What the hell," he moaned. "You don't just leap into someone who is offering you a free ride."

Her face sparkled with innocence as Haruhi played up all of her girly features to her advantage. She laid across his arms like a damsel in distress swooning over her prince charming. Laying her head back on his shoulder with a phony reluctance, she gleamed with achievement.

"But I just did. And you're the first guy not to have dropped me."

The meaning struck Kyon funny. He never truly considered the fact that his dear friend might have actually had some flings during all of these years. That she may have found some nice incredibly nice guy who was willing to put up with all of her nonsense.

He began walking, attempting not to tilt them both over. The stairs seemed even more perilous than they had been before. Second thoughts were roaring from every microbe. This wasn't a good idea.

"Have you seen a lot of other guys?" He soon realized that it may not have been the best conversation choice to distract him from impending doom.

"If you can call one date seeing someone. I did try going out with a girl once, but it didn't really work out." Haruhi closed her eyes, blocking out a flood of hurt feelings. "She said that I was a cruel manipulative bitch. After that, you just sort of figure that things aren't going to work out."

It had been a long time since he had last came into question with Haruhi's sexuality. Not that it had ever bothered him, but more because he had convinced himself that it was none of his concern since they were never going to date. Now that they were technically dating, he could conform it.

The first time they met, she declared that her ideal partner would be someone unique. Her ideal partners would have been aliens, time travelers, or espers. As like as they were to fit that criteria, she could care less what gender they were.

Kyon was none of those things. Kyon was just Kyon.

Her weight was beginning to become too much for his arms to handle. Kyon's lack of physical activity began to show as he was barely able to carry such a light load to the tip of the stairs. Looking down them with morbid curiosity, he could feel his heart sink into despair.

"I'm not sure I can do this," he confessed.

"Oh come on! You are a man, aren't you?"

"I'm not. I'm a little boy trapped in a middle-aged man's body."

Taking his first step down the staircase, he watched from the corner of his eye as Haruhi continued to smile infectiously. Apparently, watching him struggle with every single step seemed to be enough to drive her into a wall of bliss.

After much struggle, and a moment where Kyon could have sworn that he had seen his entire life flash right before his very eyes, they reached the bottom of the stairs. No small feat considering that his arms were occupied carrying his beauty.

"Wow," Haruhi sighed. "You must really be out of shape, huh?"

"You think?"

The last thing Kyon needed was for the very definition of heavenly beauty to start making fun of his belly. He was self-conscious enough.

"It's okay," she said apologetically. "I don't mind cushioning. It could come in handy someday."

* * *

It was upon this enchanted afternoon, when everything seemed far more vibrant and alive than ever before, that there was a man preaching on the corner.

His history remained relatively unknown, but numerous an onlooker stopped by to here his prayers and gospels. This man had helped to spread the word of his lord more than anyone he had known, and for that he was grateful. His life was filled with joy because of it.

Every life he could enrich made him a better man. Every life he saved made him that much closer to God.

Kyon continued to carry Haruhi as he had for the last half an hour. His arms were beginning to feel the strain of such an endeavor, but whenever he thought to open his mouth in protest, her eyes stopped him. There was something truly spectacular about having her face that close to his own for such an extended period of time.

As they passed by the man with his bible, Haruhi's interest suddenly drifted.

"Wait a moment," Haruhi commanded.

Kyon halted his movement, though he was confused for what reason he had done so. For the last several minutes, he had been so swept up in the sensual nirvana which carrying Haruhi had provided that the motor function of speech had practically left him.

Haruhi wiggled around in his arms, obviously giving a signal that she finally wanted to be set down.

Kyon chose to ignore some of the people staring at them. It looked as if he was robbing cradle.

As her feet firmly placed themselves down upon the ground, she listened with great interest. Her eyes didn't move from the preacher.

"Salvation lies in each and every one of you," the main said as he moved his arms in wide sweeping motions. "But how many of you choose to seek it? How many of you actually choose to embrace the gift that God has laid down for you?!"

Kyon merely stood motionless, not quite sure what to say or do given the circumstance. He certainly wasn't a religious man, and neither did he expect Haruhi to ever have a passing interest in Christianity.

He couldn't help but be impressed by the sermon of the preacher. For a street gospel, he certainly knew how to rally up a crowd.

"God has a special plan for each and every one of you. You are all a cog within his great machine. You all have the potential to be so much more than what you are!"

Haruhi's head nodded along almost rhythmically.

"I'm not going to preach to you about the pains of Hell nor the deception of the Devil. It's clear to me that so many of you have witnessed this already in your everyday lives. I feel that it isn't my duty to preach to you about pain. No! It is my duty to preach to you about how to live your life for The Lord's cause! For his is more righteous than that of anyone else in the world."

Haruhi raised her hand, eagerly waving it back and forth. Kyon felt his heart sank.

'Please god, don't embarrass me like this.'

The preacher turned, acknowledging the outstretched hand.

"It seems we have a curious sheep within our flock," he chuckled. "Tell me, what is your name?"

Her arm flopped to her side. "Suzumiya Haruhi."

He stepped towards her, giving her his full attention.

"Well then, Ms. Suzumiya. Tell me what's on your mind."

'That isn't a good idea. That really isn't a good idea. Just continue with your sermon and we'll be on our way.'

"I used to be Christian," Haruhi stated proudly. "But I suppose, as you might say, I had lost my way."

The preacher smiled. He knew exactly how to deal with skeptics, and had prepared numerous comebacks for any unnecessarily scathing questions.

"And what is your question, my child?"

Kyon watched as Haruhi briefly hesitated. He never would have expected that Haruhi might have found religion at any point in her life.

'What irony.'

"The world doesn't always revolve around me, and I know that." She bit her lip. "But when I believed, nothing good seemed to come from it. I saw my life slowly fall in around me just the same as it had before. I never found love, and those relationships I was rewarded with were brief. So I suppose my question is that..."

She went silent for a moment, continuing to nibble on her bottom lip. "Why wasn't I saved from that? Was it because I didn't believe enough?"

Haruhi stature changed, as her once confident stature melted to reveal a more sensitive center. Her loosely crossed arms and wandering eyes clearly emoted her embarrassment.

"Questions are good," the preacher smiled. "You shouldn't be afraid of asking questions."

He moved back slightly, taking to the center of the crowd where he had previously preached.

"We all experience unhappiness in our lives. We have all felt it. We all know of it. We all know what being unhappy feels like."

He flipped around, smiling at Haruhi once again. "I can practically read your thoughts, my child."

Despite his formal use of language, the preacher displayed a rather casual indifference towards her. He seemed more interested in spreading the message across rather than straight out converting his followers. It was a clever tactic.

"Even us believers experience depression," the preacher continued. "For many days and nights I have questioned my own faith, since God's plan had chosen to take my wife from me at such an early age. She was only thirty years old. She was only thirty years old when she was defeated by cancer."

The eyes of the preacher scorched into Haruhi's mind.

"Tell me, what kind of suffering did you experience at the hands of fate?" The preacher stared at her.

"Loneliness," she responded. "I felt alone."

Once again, he just smiled. "There are those who achieve happiness, or so I have heard, without the guiding hand of Jesus. It is my duty, as a preacher, to enlighten you of his divine path. To open your eyes to your potential. Yet, I can't simply whip you into submission. It is your choice whether to take the path of the righteous or not."

"I had taken the path of the righteous once," Haruhi retorted. "I felt the same."

"Then perhaps you have already come to your conclusion." The preacher walked towards his box of bibles, pulling out a slim paperback copy. "Usually I would charge a hundred yen for one of these, but since your case has peaked my interest so greatly, I'll let you take this one for free."

"You really don't have t-"

"I insist," the preacher said as he held the book in front of her. "Something tells me you haven't touched one of these in a long time."

Haruhi looked embarrassed as her face lit up to a slightly redder color. This was her punishment for drawing so much attention to herself.

"Thank you very much," she bowed while taking the bible in hand. "It is very generous of you."

"Eh. What's a hundred yen worth, anyways?"

"Thank you again!"

She ran up to Kyon. "Lift please."

"Didn't you already have a lift," he mumbled.

Haruhi didn't budge, cementing her feet deeply into the snow.

Not wanting to start a confrontation in the middle of a sermon, Kyon reluctantly swept her into his arms once again. Just as soon as he had, the euphoria took him.

Maybe carrying her around wasn't such a bad thing.

They walked out of talking distance from the crowd, whose eyes followed Kyon suspiciously. This was going to be an obstacle in the relationship he had never even considered.

'How many people are going to give me looks like that?'

He looked down towards the creature who had practically curled herself up into his chest. Suzumiya Haruhi was cuddling up to him while holding a copy of The Bible. Kyon laughed.

"What's so funny," she asked.

"Nothing," he chuckled. "It's just that the image of you with a Bible was never something that had crossed my mind."

"Why not?"

"You never seemed like the church going type."

Haruhi choosing any sort of belief that didn't involve the most obscure sort of science fiction premise was quite a surprise. Christianity was a common belief among people world-wide, so to think that someone as deliberately eccentric as Haruhi were to adopt it made his thoughts do somersaults.

Little differences in perspective and character were beginning to fill in the blanks that were left empty from time. The excitement of rediscovering Suzumiya Haruhi was beginning to latch hold of him.

"When we feel empty," Haruhi began. "It is hard to fill the void. At one point, I figured that religion might help. Sort of figured it would be enough to occupy my time, you know?"

"What happened?"

Kyon made sure to keep his walking pace even. The sooner they were home, the sooner his arms could take a much deserved break.

"Nothing happened. I felt even more depressed than I had before."

They both became silent. Kyon focused desperately on the road ahead, while Haruhi was thinking over her next statement.

"It was like," she continued. "It was like someone gave me a beautiful gift that I couldn't possibly understand. I pretended like the gift was as beautiful as they said, even though I didn't understand why it was. It had nothing to offer me."

"I was never much into religion myself. I think I'm a little more venomous towards it than you are."

"I choose to believe things people think are stupid. Why should I pass judgment unto those that choose to believe things I think are stupid? It isn't my place to do so, and neither is it yours."

Her calmness and maturity were taking him by surprise. He had never had a religious discussion with her before. It was never a topic that was desirable to have.

She curled up against him, trying her best to enjoy the rest of the ride over to his place. Kyon's mind was no longer so peaceful.

It was a dangerous thing to get re involved with a woman like her. Her powers were beyond that of comprehension. Any wrong step down the path of romance might inevitably lead to a miserable existence.

"Why are you being so quiet?"

Kyon gulped.

"It's nothing."

She relaxed again, closing her eyes and allowing her consciousness to drift away into his warmth.

_'I love her.'_

The thought laid in his mind, cleansing everything else.

_'I don't care what happens. There's no way my life could get anymore miserable than it already is.'_

_

* * *

_

_**Well, that certainly wasn't two weeks... but I do have a new chapter. Finnnaaaally.**_

_**I've come to the conclusion, after some careful consideration, that this story should probably be considered AU, mostly due to my lack of knowledge concerning the Haruhi novels and universe. This is basically a fan-fiction that is an off-shoot of the anime, and so is told with the knowledge of someone who has only watched the anime. So, yes, there is bound to be some loop-holes and plot-holes and continuity errors. I hope that doesn't bother anyone too much though.**_

_**For those of you who have come this far into the story, this is about as quick as the pace is going to be. The plot is going to develop quite a bit more in coming chapters, but the majority of this is slice-of-life kind of stuff.**_

_**I hope you continue enjoying this little story. Leave your 'Honest to Suzumiya' opinions. If you've got a bone to pick, I want to see it. Also, grammar corrections would be much appreciated. I'm actually going to try and go back and fix stuff that's broken this time. HOPEFULLY!**_

_**P.S. Next chapter we're introducing a new character. You know… the one I promised so long ago in that one chapter months ago.**_


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